


The Rhythm of Life

by Satine86



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Gen, Humor, Other, Romance, Suggestive Themes, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 53,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senshi, Shitennou, and ballroom dancing. Oh my!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is over a year old, but I'm just now getting around to putting it up here. I want to leave a quick note about a minor character/OC.
> 
> 'Dmitri' is the brainchild of dutchesscourtney (please see 'Cowboy, Take Me Away' on FF.net) and is a bit of a running joke among several of us over on the shitennou_ai livejournal. 
> 
> His creation came when we discovered a mineral called "cummingtonite" and thus Dmitri "The Russian Manwhore" was born. I often "borrow" him with Courtney's permission, and he's usually cast as Nephrite's brother. So that's his little story. 
> 
> Of course in this fic he's Ukrainian because why not? Need to mix it up, right? (And I promise this is the last major A/N).

Kameron Ryan, former Australian DanceSport Champion, stared down at the staggering pile of bills on his desk and sighed.

When he had ‘retired’ at age thirty, it had been his dream to open his own studio. He had relocated from Sydney to London with his younger brothers in tow, and done just that. Elysian Studios was his pride and joy, unfortunately lately things had not been going so well.

Contracted dancers were at an all time low, the studio was in ill repair, and he knew if he didn’t think up something soon he would be forced to file for bankruptcy and shut the doors for good.

The financial aspect didn’t bother him nearly as much as the thought of closing the studio. Standing slowly, he moved to the wall of windows that overlooked the main dance hall. At some point within the last five years it had become more than just a place for dance classes. It had become a safe place for children to play after school; offering younger children freen ballet and tap classes, while older students enrolled in ballroom lessons. In recent years the studio had added a daycare, and was part of an outreach program for the local kids.

He loved his work, but he couldn’t keep it up. Not without some big changes. He watched as a young child trotted across the floor in tap shoes, laughing happily while trying to copy the teacher’s cross bar step.

Turning around, Kameron eased himself back into his chair and picked up the receiver of his phone. There were some calls he did not wish to make, but he had to ensure the success of the studio – whatever the means.

 

***

 

Three days after his big revelation Kameron sat at his desk again, this time ringed by the people he held closest in his life. His brothers, Jaden and Zander; their dear friend, Dmitri; and the young Edmond – Kameron’s only contracted dancers at the moment.

“All right, ya lot, I’ve some news for you,” Kameron said. He sank back into his chair and scrubbed at his face. Dreading what he had to do.

Jaden arched a blond eyebrow, leaning forward a bit. “Kam? Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”

“Because you’re not.” Kameron took a deep breath. “Elysian is failing.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean there’s more money going out than coming in. We’re in debt. By a lot.”

Zander, the youngest Ryan child, eyed his brother askance, “What’s a lot?” 

Kameron pinched the bridge of his nose, not meeting anyone's gaze. “More than you’d like to know. But I have some plans… some things I think should help us.”

“We’re not going to like this either, are we?” Dmitri frowned from where he leaned against the far wall.

“Not particularly.” Kam smiled apologetically at the Ukrainian. “Firstly, Zander? I think it’s time you stopped dancing and taught full time in the studio.”

“Why do I have to stop!?” Zander leaped up from his seat like it was on fire, his abundance of curly blond hair bouncing with the movement.

“Because you don’t have a partner now, and you’re never happy with them anyway. If you teach here for a while, I can cut back on payroll. There’s no way I’m shutting down the classes… not until the bitter end. Besides you love it, you know you do. The only time you’re ever patient is when you’re teaching someone to how to dance.”

“Fine,” Zander huffed, rolling leaf green eyes toward the ceiling. “I’ll teach.”

“Good.” Kam offered his brother a small smile before turning to Dmitri. “You have your new partner, right? Things been going well?”

“Yes, she is good. I like her.” Dmitri grinned, brown eyes mischievous.

“Please don’t scare her off by hitting on her? You need a partner because you will be entering into the European Championship in three months.”

“Three months is not enough time.”

“Then you better work at it, the grand prize would be helpful plus you could get some good sponsorships.”

“It all rest on my shoulder!?” Dmitri scowled deeply, arms crossed.

“We’ll be doing our part, trust me.” Kam sighed. “However, Dmitri, I won’t be able to help choreograph or train either of you.”

“I must do on my own?”

“No, I was hoping Neven might step in?”

The room went quiet at the mention of Dmitri’s brother. Jaden gave a low whistle, which earned him a glare from Kam and promptly shut up, sinking low in his chair.

“You call and ask. He is different now… distant,” Dmitri said.

“He might be different, but he’s still talented. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows you. Besides he understands what I did for him, right? He has to know he’s part of the reason I’m in so much debt right now. And quite frankly I am not above using extreme amounts of guilt to get what I want right now.”

“Okay, I will call. I will tell him what you say. Then we will see.” Dmitri sighed and settled back against the wall, chewing his thumbnail while he thought.

“Edmond?”

“No.” The twenty-two year old shook his head, thick bangs fluttering against his forehead. He'd come to Kameron when he was eighteen, graduating from the Junior circuits in France, and needing a new trainer for the pro circuit. Over the years he had become very close with all of them, blending in as if he had always been a part of the group.

“Yes, we all have a part to play… unless you would rather be on your own again?” It was a cheap shot, but Kam was far past caring.

“Fine, what am I to do?”

“There’s no easy way to put this: Edmond, I’m whoring you out.” This earned a muffled snicker from Jaden and Zander, and a cry of disbelief from the dark haired man in question.

“I’m sorry?”

“Over the last few years I’ve had a few different lords and ladies wanting private lessons. I have a certain lord right now who wants to hire an instructor for his daughter, before she’s presented. She’s some debutante, and it’s her coming out soon, so she has to do all that high society bullshit. But her father is willing to pay a very large amount for private lessons. Apparently, this girl’s dream is to dance the Viennese Waltz at her debut, and he can’t deny his little princess anything. Since you mainly dance Standard, you get the job. Besides, you’re young and handsome, I’m sure she’ll eat it up.”

“You really are whoring me out.” Edmond looked at his mentor incredulously. “ _Pourquoi moi dieu? Quel est cet enfer nouveau._ "

“Oh, I know you’re upset but please don’t go rambling off in French, you know I hate it. If you have something to say to me, say it so I can understand it.”

Edmond glowered at Kam, blue eyes narrowed. “Why me God? What fresh hell is this?” he said dryly.

“It will be all right, you giant baby! She just needs the basics, you can make anyone look good.” Edmond didn't seem overly thrilled, but he nodded at Kam in understanding and didn't say another word. 

“And finally you,” Kam turned the middle Ryan brother.

“We’re not done?” Jaden pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and yanked on the strings until his face was practically hidden, eyes closed tight.

Kam rolled his eyes. “You’re twenty-six, don’t be a child!”

“I’m scared though,” Jaden’s muffled voice replied. “Just… just get it over with. Quickly.”

“You’re getting a new partner so you can compete in the Latin Championships.”

“That’s all?” One bright blue eye opened, surveying Kam. “That’s not so bad, who is it?” Jaden let go of the strings on his hood and emerged slowly, much like a turtle from its shell.

“Ramona De La Vega.”

Jaden sat in his chair, left ankle balanced on his right knee, back straight and scratched his head, ruffling the short blond curls. He stared at Kam’s desk, eyes not really focused. He opened his mouth to speak, blinked twice, then snapped it shut. Jaden finally lifted his eyes to meet Kam's gaze, shook his head, and stood up; wandering out of the room without a word.

“He’s taking that a lot better than I would’ve thought.” Zander shrugged.

The four men fell silent and waited. After several seconds had ticked by the door burst open, rattling on its hinges. Jaden stood there, jaw clenched. “NO!” he bellowed. “No. No. No. Nononononononono. OH KAM? DID I MENTION NO!”

“Too late, I’ve called her trainer and manager. They should be arriving from Spain sometime tomorrow.”

“How could you do this to me? We’re likely to kill each other within five minutes! How the hell are we supposed to work together?”

“You’ll have to be nice.”

“I’m always nice!“ Jaden placed a hand over his heart, the other waving wildly in the air.  
“She’s the barking mad Sheila who hates me for no clear reason!”

“I thought it had to do with–“

“No one asked you, little brother!” Jaden glared at Zander until he shut his mouth and turned away. Then he turned his glare onto Kam. “This is complete shit! You could’ve at least warned me.”

“I did, they’re arriving tomorrow,” Kam said blandly.

“More than a day would’ve been good!”

“If I had you would’ve ran away.”

“Whatever, you bastard.” Jaden ran a hand through his hair. “And what will you be doing then? While I’m working with a person who can't stand me and Zander’s forced into retirement. While Dmitri’s trying to convince his brother to come here, and poor Edmond is a veritable whore! What are you going to be doing to save all this!”

“I’ll be taking on a new dancer.”

“Well, how terrible for you.” Jaden rolled his eyes.

“I finally said yes to training Anton Cromwell.”

“Oh.” The others all breathed in unison.

“I told you, we’re in debt, we all have a part to play. I won’t let this place close, no matter what it takes.” Kam stood up, hands braced on the desk. “Are you all with me?”

Jaden looked at the others, holding their gaze a moment before finally turning to Kam.“Yes, we are.”


	2. Chapter 2

The day after The Damned Meeting, as Kam was referring to it, he stood in one of the private studios waiting on his newest dancer. The others were all taking care of their various jobs, and he’d only heard minimal whining that morning, so he was going to count that as a win for the day. Though he was sure he would soon hear yelling and Spanish curses when Ramona finally showed up for her appointment with Jaden. Oh well.

As he readied the stereo with music for the session, back turned to the door, he heard the telltale signs of another person arriving. Kam turned slowly to find Anton setting down his bag in the corner, already dressed in track pants and a t-shirt. The young man bent to tuck his phone into the pocket of the bag and straightened.

Within the dance world Anton was known for his good looks. Kam personally thought his attitude zapped out all possibility of attractiveness, but he supposed if one was just glancing at him, they would find him pleasant to look at. Naturally fair skinned, Anton abused the self-tanner and tanning beds like most professional competitors, giving his tawny brown hair the barest hint of bleach-blonde highlights. His face was all sharp angles and high cheekbones, and his full mouth always seemed to quirk in a condescending smirk, or so Kam thought; he’d heard plenty of women refer to it as “sexy.”

Anton looked at Kam now, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, back straight as he tried to draw himself up to his fullest height. Even then he fell several inches short of Kam’s considerable size.

“Well, old boy, looks like you finally gave in,” he said with a slow, English drawl. “I still can’t believe you actually agreed.”

“I can’t believe you never stopped asking. I thought I might humour you.” Kam leaned against the table the stereo sat on, arms folded, and crossed one leg over the other. “Where’s this partner of yours, I’m curious to meet her.”

“She should be here any moment, she’s new to London. Might’ve gotten lost; you are bit off the beaten track, as it were.”

“That’s how I like it.”

They stood looking at each other. Kam told himself he would not be the first to look away, but the sound of heels clacking against the tiles outside the door drew his attention. The door, which had been left slightly ajar, was thrust open by a slim hand, revealing a young woman. She was all golden hair, long limbs, and bright eyes.

The woman smiled happily at Anton as she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

“This is a quaint little place, not at all like home!” She spoke enthusiastically, if not a little too loudly. “Is this really where we’ll be practicing?” She trotted into the room, placed her bag next to Anton’s. Slipping a hairtie from her wrist, she titled her head forward and started winding up her cascade of buttery blonde hair.

“Is there a problem with my studio?” Kam remained how he was, casually leaning against the table, but raised a brow at the young woman.

Her eyes snapped up from the floor and looked at him, as if just noticing him. “No,” she said slowly and finished securing her hair. “It’s just different is all. Not like home, which is in Florida... Miami, actually.” She stepped forward and held out a hand, “Mina Clark.”

“Charmed.” He nodded, but did not shake her hand.

“Do be nice, now, old chap.” Anton popped up at Mina’s elbow, smile intact. “Mina’s very talented, it took a lot to find her.”

Kam had kept his eyes on Mina, watching her. “We’ll see.”

“Don’t mind Kameron, Mina. He’s an old grump, but he’s extremely good at what he does. He _could_ be one of the most renowned trainers and choreographers in the business, but he refuses to work with most people.”

“That’s how I like it.” Kam pushed away from the table and started circling Mina, inspecting her posture.

“I’m well aware of Mr. Ryan,” Mina said lightly. She stood studiously, back straight while Kam walked around her. “I did my research before coming.”

“Actually, so did I.” Kam stopped in front of her, arms still crossed. “I read that you were nearly tossed out of the Finales last year.”

“That was a bit of a misunderstanding.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Kam arched a brow. “Funny, I thought you broke hold during the Quickstep and were quite upset when the proper points were deducted.”

“We were only trying to update it a bit. The Judges are so old fashioned and stuffy!” Mina waved a hand airily.

“If you think the American Judges are ‘stuffy’, I’m not sure how you think you’ll fare in the European circuit.”

“They always love me in Italy.”

Kam hummed softly. “I’m sure. But I will state now that if you are to be here, under my tutelage, you will do things by the books. Even if it seems ’old fashioned.’ Is that understood?”

“It’s crystal clear!” She gave him a flirty wink, lifting one hand to give him a jaunty thumbs up.

“Right.” He relaxed his posture, letting his hands drop to his sides, and moved back to the stereo. “Let’s see that infamous Quickstep, shall we?”

 

***

 

Dmitri sat in Kam’s office, the only truly private place in the entire building, and stared at his mobile phone. All he had to do was call his brother. That was not a big deal, really. He called his brother a lot.

Or he used to call him a lot, before things changed... before Neven changed. Now the idea filled him with apprehension, especially since he was going to be asking him a rather large favour. Dmitri rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand and took a deep breath, hitting the speed dial. The phone rang twice before a gruff voice answered the other line in Ukrainian.

“Hello, big brother,” Dmitri said.

“ _Dmitri? What are you doing?_ ”

Neven sounded… pleasant. Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Dmitri settled back in the chair. “Just checking in, we haven’t talked in awhile.”

“ _Oh, all right. How are things with you?_ “

“Fine. I have a new partner, her name is Maggie. She’s very nice. How have you been?”

“ _The same_ ,” came the short reply, and Dmitri knew better than to push it.

“I have a…. a proposition for you.” He tried to keep his voice light.

“ _I knew you had a reason for calling._ ” Neven barked out a laugh. “ _What is it?_ “

“Things are not going well here, financially. Kameron wanted to know if you would come and be my trainer, so Maggie and I can compete in the European Championship.”

“ _That’s asking rather a lot, isn’t it? That’s what? Three months of heavy training? _“__

“He knows it’s a lot, but the entire place is on the line. We can’t let it close down, we need help.” Dmitri paused, time to be brave.“You do owe Kameron.”

The other end of the line was silent for a long time, but Dmitri knew his brother was still there. Likely weighing his options, and mentally cursing Dmitri and Kameron to the high heavens.

“ _Okay. I’ll come. See you in a few days, baby brother_ ,” Neven said quietly and hung up. Dmitri blew out a puff of air and ran his hands through his hair. That had been almost too easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Anton is Ace. I'm a horrible person.


	3. Chapter 3

Jaden stalked around the practice room full of restless energy, and not at all sure what to do with himself. Ramona would be showing up any minute, most likely with her group of handlers, personal assistants, bodyguards, and whatever the hell Martino was… because there was no doubt he would be there too.

He stopped in front of the mirrors lining the wall, not looking at his reflection but rather his feet as he shuffled them in a simple ball-heel step, something he always did when nervous. Jaden shook himself when he realized exactly what he was doing, looking up to meet his reflection. He sighed and absently tried to flatten the mop of curls atop his head.

“Aww! Spiffing yourself up for your date?” Jaden whirled around to glare at Zander, wondering when exactly he had entered the room.

“Rack off!”

“Now, now,” Zander tsk‘d, shaking his head. “Who’s a cranky little wowser?”

“Just go, Zander! Aren’t you supposed to be teaching a class anyway?” Jaden shooed his brother away.

“Naaah, doesn’t start for another hour.” Zander moved to the corner of the room where a couple chairs had been pushed out of the way, and plopped down, one leg outstretched. “Don’t you want me to keep you company while you wait?”

“I’d rather ya didn’t, thanks.” Jaden pointed to the door again, but to no avail, his brother looked comfortable. Great.

“You clearly need someone to calm you down before she gets here.” Zander slowly rose from his chair and sauntered forward.

Jaden looked completely unimpressed when the younger Ryan threw an arm around his shoulders. He eyed the offending appendage, affronted. “You’re the person for that? You’re as mad as a cut snake.”

“You’re never very nice to me,” Zander pouted.

“You’re my little brother, of course I’m not ever nice to you.” Jaden reached up and ruffled Zander’s hair, the long curls bobbing and shifting.

Zander cried out indignantly and swatted Jaden's hand away, “Stop!”

Grinning, Jaden snaked his arms around his brother’s neck, yanking him down into a headlock while continuing to muss up the formerly immaculate curls. While they fought – Zander squawking in annoyance while Jaden laughed – a petite shadow fell in the doorway. They broke apart at the sound of a throat clearing delicately.

Both young men straightened themselves out, fixing hair and yanking down shirts, and turned their gazes to the door.

Miss Ramona De La Vega stood primly in front of the now closed door. Dressed all in black save a red sweatshirt, she looked perfectly put together. Her long raven hair was braided down her back, not a single strand out of place. Her face was bare of makeup, but she still looked incredibly beautiful; olive skinned with full lips, and endlessly long lashes framed large, port colored eyes.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked, voice colored with a Spanish lilt, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“No! He was just leaving.” Jaden turned on Zander, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He jerked his head toward the door.

“Yes, must get to class. Wouldn’t do for the teacher to be late and all that.” Zander walked to the door and offered Ramona an over exaggerated bow. “Good day, madam. I am sorry you must be paired with _that_ Ryan brother.”

“I’ll manage, but thank you for the concern.” Ramona gave him the tiniest smile. Zander returned the smile widely and slipped out the door.

“Pleasant flight?” Jaden asked once his brother was gone.

“Yes.”

“You’re alone today? Where’s the entourage?”

“I thought it best I kept things simple today.” Ramona walked over to the chairs, her short heels clicking on the wooden floor. Jaden thought he’d never seen her in flats. She gently sat down her belongings.

“Interesting…” he mumbled.

Ramona whipped around, eyes narrowed. “What was that?”

“Interesting that you agreed to all this.” He spread his hands, shrugging one shoulder.

“Your brother sold you well.” She gave him a sidelong glance as she started stretching. Ramona reached to one side, torso long, her shirt riding up slightly to expose a flat, smooth stomach.

Jaden tore his gaze away, wondering why she was being somewhat civil and cursed himself for falling for it. “Did he now? Lucky me.”

Ramona straightened up and marched over to where he stood, tilting her head back slightly so she could look him in the eye. “He did,” she said shortly. “Neither of us have a partner at the moment, both of us are skilled, likely to win. I wish to win, and our chances are better together.”

He looked down at her, and ran his tongue over his teeth as he locked gazes with her. She did not waver, did not back down. He finally nodded.

“All right, let’s do this.” He turned away and moved to the stereo for some music. Jaden whirled around and looked at her; smiling magnanimously, he spread his arms out with a flourish, back straight and head high. “What shall we start with?”

“A Jive. We’ll see how much stamina you have.” She waited while he set the proper music and moved toward her. “Try to keep up,” she smirked when the high tempo beat started.

Jaden fitted his hand in hers, noting how small it seemed before spinning her out and then pulling her back in, close. “I intend to.”

 

***

 

As the minutes slowly ticked by before the start of class, Zander flitted around the studio. He had a small station set up containing his registration list, class schedule, and instruction chart. He pressed the play button on the CD player, innocuous classical music piping through the speakers located in the corners of the room.

Things all in order he had started puttering around with random dance steps, when students started filing in. This was the first class of the season, for older students wanting to learn ballroom basics. He directed everyone to sign in, so he could account for who was there.

Zander noted some couples among the students; he remembered talking to one couple who signed up the other day about how they wanted to learn for their wedding. A group of four female friends came in laughing together and casting him glances.

When it seemed everyone had arrived, Zander moved to the front of the room, before the floor to ceiling mirrors, and bowed to the people.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Alexander Ryan, one of the partners of the studio and your teacher for the season! Please, though, call me Zander. Alexander is only used in competitions... and by my Gran.” He pulled a face, garnering a wave of laughter from the group.

“I think we have everyone here, so if you all could please form two lines – one in front of the other – we’ll start with the basic terms and positions.”

Thirty minutes into the hour lesson, Zander was starting to lose his patience. The lovely couple wanting to learn for their reception were too into themselves to pay much attention to anything. The few other couples were nothing short of inept. And the giggling girls spent more time whispering about how green his eyes were than listening to his instructions. 

Sighing wearily Zander clapped his hands to get student’s attention. “If everyone will couple up? We’ll discuss holds and practice the Box Step.”

He weaved around people as they paired off, slowing when he found one young woman looking shyly around at her classmates. She stood with her hands behind her back, head tilted forward, looking up through her thick lashes. She wore a demure grey skirt that fell to her ankles. Her feet were covered in plain black shoes, and Zander couldn’t help be a little impressed when he realized they were proper practice shoes.

Her blouse was just as plain as the rest of her clothing, a soft baby blue with a white cardigan over it. Though she, herself, was anything but plain. Her dark hair was cut short in a pageboy style that framed her heart-shaped face. Her skin was so fair it seemed to glow under the lights of the practice room. Full, cupid bow lips were naturally a blushing red colour, and her cheeks were the slightest bit pink from dancing.

“We’ll be dancing together,” he said as he stopped before her.

“I beg your pardon?” Her head snapped up and she looked at him with the biggest, clearest blue eyes he had ever seen. He had a fleeting idea that she would make a wonderful Snow White.

“You’ve no partner, wouldn’t do to dance by yourself.” He thought over his registration list. “Adelaide, correct?”

“Y-yes, that’s correct,” she said, nodding curtly. Her voice was soft, her accent even and proper, almost a little posh. Interesting.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be upfront with me, though. But don’t worry, everyone here is a beginner… and I promise to make you look good, I’m very good at partnering.” He grinned and pulled her into the starting position.

“All right everyone, if you would kindly watch myself and Miss Adelaide. This is the Closed Position. There should be a few inches between you and your partner, this isn’t Latin dancing. Which is my preferred style,” he whispered to Adelaide. “You want your frame upright, shoulders back and down, no hunching.” Zander lifted his shoulders to his ears to demonstrate.

“Arms should be firm, not loose. Very good, Miss Adelaide,” he said suddenly, catching her off guard.

“Oh, t-thank you. I… my friend likes the dance shows. I’ve watched a few with her.”

“Seems you’re a quick learner then, that’s good.” He spoke softly, his head a little closer to hers than was strictly necessary. Pulling back he turned and spoke to the class at large. “All right everyone! The Box Step, whoever is leading should start with their right foot. Right, together. Back, together. Left, together. Forward, together.”

Zander smoothly took Adelaide through the step, watching her rather than his class. When they started the second run-through of Box Step, he glanced at his students. “No watching your feet! Eyes on your partner.”

There was a moment of mild chaos as everyone looked up from the floor at once, some heads bumped others, some toes were stepped on, and there were more than a few muffled curses. Turning back to Adelaide with a smile, Zander saw that she was not pleased.

“You did that on purpose. You knew that would happen,” she accused gently.

“This isn’t my first class, of course I did. It humbles them.”

Adelaide frowned, thin brows knitting together tightly. “That seems a bit cruel.”

“Half these people won’t make it past the second class before giving up, it’s good to show them what’s in store. Dance is not easy, you need to have passion.” He nodded firmly, gripping her hand a bit tighter.

“I’m not sure about all that, but personally, I don’t give up easily.”

“Good, neither do I.” He grinned again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martino will be playing a slightly larger role later on, and he's this verses Kaidou. Now here, have a jive! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jof7AHGwRpU


	4. Chapter 4

The hall Edmond stood in was grand, to say the very least. It was lined with undoubtedly expensive art pieces, crystal vases stood on mahogany tables full of the freshest flowers; plump peonies drooping on their long stems; wisps of baby’s breath peeking out between full, blooming roses the color of merlot; perfect tulips, the cupped petals in happy lemon yellow, vivid crimson, and the purest white.

A Persian runner cushioned his feet as he paced slowly, hands folded behind his back, waiting to see the lord of the house. Finally the butler walked out one of the many doors lining the hallway and beckoned to him.

Edmond walked slowly toward the butler, oddly nervous about the whole ordeal now. The place was too grand. The lord probably too formal. And the daughter…. God only knew what the daughter would be like.

The study he stepped into was just as rich as the rest of the house. Dark wood paneling, and deep burgundy walls. The floors were covered with another Persian rug, Edmond guessed. One wall was replaced with a floor to ceiling bookcase, stuffed full of leather bound tomes. The other wall held a large fireplace built with immaculate masonry work, an intricate design had been made depicting a hunting scene.

An oak desk stood across from the door, and the man behind it looked rather pleasant. Middle aged, his dark blond hair fading into grey at the temples. He wore horn-rimmed glasses, covering pale blue eyes.

He smiled when Edmond entered and motioned for him to sit. Edmond stepped forward and shook the man’s hand before taking a seat in the plush leather chair before the desk, sinking slightly as he settled his weight.

“Edmond, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Good afternoon, _monsieur_. Or am I to call you Lord Teasdale? I am afraid I do not understand these things.”

“Oh, please, call me Kenneth. I get rather tired of all the propriety day in and day out. I think it’s possible to be respectful _and_ familiar with a person.” He smiled kindly at Edmond. “Now, I do wish to talk a bit before we go meet my daughter. I do trust Mr. Ryan, I’ve heard he’s very competent, but you seem awfully young. If you don’t mind my asking, what sort of credentials do you have?”

“I am young, I am twenty-two. But I am a certified instructor, and I’ve been working in Kameron’s studio for the past few months. I was Junior Champion at the Grand Prix in Paris two years running. And last year, before my partner injured herself, I finished in the top ten at the World Championship.”

“And you dance… ballroom? Like what Sylvia wishes, the Viennese Waltz?”

“Yes,” Edmond nodded, trying not to smile. “The Waltz and Foxtrot, those types of dances we call “Standard”, which is what I compete in.”

“Good.” Lord Teasdale paused, debating for a moment. “I have something else to ask of you, if I may speak candidly?”

“Of course, _monsieur_.”

“My daughter is a bit of a free spirit, like her mother was, God rest her. She is to be presented to proper society, I think it would be good for her to have some guidance in…. ladylike behavior. This is probably too much to ask, but it seems to me that ballroom is very steeped in tradition, and very, well, just very _proper_ in a lot of ways. I would greatly appreciate it if you might somehow work a bit of that into the lessons?” Lord Teasdale looked imploringly over the rim of his glasses.

“Uh,” Edmond stuttered slightly as he contemplated what it all meant. He was suddenly extremely worried what he had gotten into, but it was for Kameron. In the end, he nodded in agreement. “There are many applications in the dance world that can be applied to everyday life. A good dancer must be polite, they must be civil, and they must have a certain grace. I’m not sure how much I can teach your daughter in these regards, but I shall try.”

“I appreciate it.” Lord Teasdale smiled widely and stood from his chair. “Well, let’s go meet her; then you two can get started, hm?”

Edmond rose and followed Lord Teasdale into the hall. The older man turned right, and stopped at the end, before two large, double doors that were embossed with leaves and vine patterns, weaving across the wood. They had large, polished brass handles that curved upward. Lord Teasdale grabbed one with both hands, and yanked open the obviously heavy door.

“ _Mon Dieu_ ,” Edmond breathed as he stepped into the large ballroom. There were vaulted ceilings with an unlit chandelier full of shining crystals. Crown modeling ran along the ceiling and floorboards, painted gold. The hardwood floors were polished to the highest sheen, and the large bay windows let in shafts of sunlight through sheer drapes.

It looked like a showroom, one in which he could compete with judges and scrutineers keeping score to one side. Instead it was empty save a small young woman, sitting in the far corner, looking out onto the grounds.

“Sylvia, sweetheart, won’t you come meet your instructor?” Lord Teasdale said, voice full of fondness.

The girl’s head snapped to attention, and she rose quickly from her seat. Dashing forward to greet her father with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek.

She was petite, her head just barely reaching Edmond’s shoulders. Her long, honey blonde hair was pulled back in a sloppy braid, wisps escaping to frame her face. Pink lips curled upward as she smiled at her father, cornflower blue eyes shining.

Edmond stared slightly while she spoke with her father. “I was just watching the robins in the tree, the babies have hatched!” She giggled, almost childlike in her joy.

“That’s lovely, darling.” Lord Teasdale smiled and took her elbow gently, moving to present her to Edmond. “Dear, this is Edmond Moreau, your instructor. Edmond, lad, allow me to present my daughter, Sylvia.”

“A pleasure, _mademoiselle_.“ He stood up a little straighter, shoulders back as he bent forward at the waist, kissing the back of her hand.

“I was expecting an older, stodgy person,” she giggled lightly, the sound like tinkling bells. Sylvia cast her a father a quick glance before leaning in closer to Edmond, whispering, “Not a young Frenchman.”

Lord Teasdale made a face, then cleared his throat. “Well, I shall leave you two to practice then. I’ll see you later, Edmond.” He gave the young man a nod, then turned back to his daughter. “And I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, dropping a kiss on top of her head. 

Edmond stood with Sylvia, her quietly shy and him not really knowing what all to say to a lord’s daughter.

“You wish to learn the Viennese Waltz, correct? What made you pick that dance?”

“Oh, you’ll just think I’m silly!” She blushed prettily while inspecting her feet.

He leaned forward a little bit, trying to catch her eye. When she finally looked up at him he smiled gently, “I won’t, I promise.”

“I just…” she stopped and heaved a sigh. “I watch those dancing shows on the telly. You know the ones?” He nodded when she paused, looking up at him expectantly. “I watch them and I see the women look so pretty and graceful, and I think it would be nice to be like that. And the Waltz is beautiful, but the Viennese Waltz… it’s just… it’s so romantic, you know? I can imagine myself in a flowing dress, gliding across a dance floor. I think it would be a bit like a princess. But not like princesses now,” she added hastily. “Like a fairy tale princess!”

She stopped when she realized she was babbling and went back to looking at her feet, face blushing a bit darker. “You probably think I’m awfully silly, don’t you? I mean for you it’s a job, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’re silly. Dancing is my job, but it’s a passion as well. You have passion, that’s good.”

She looked up at him, eyes full of barely contained hope, “You think so?”

“I know so.” Edmond looked away, swallowing thickly. “You’ve never had lessons before, is that correct?”

“Not dance lessons, no.” She shook her head, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. “I’ve had etiquette lessons, though.”

“What did those entail?”

Sylvia sighed, eyes rolling from the floor to ceiling as she recounted the details. “Proper things: posture, which knives and forks to use during a seven course meal, how to carry on dinner conversation. I did all right with those things, it was when they tried teaching me how to walk and things like that that it got a bit dodgy.”

“How do you mean?” Edmond eyed her askance.

“I’m not exceptionally graceful,” she confided. “When it came time for me to learn how to serve tea, I had some problems.”

Edmond chewed on his lip a moment. “What kind of problems?” he asked when it became clear she wasn’t going to continue.

“I broke seven sets.”

“Seven cups?”

“No,” Sylvia moaned miserably. “Seven full tea sets; cups, saucers, and pots. My teacher was very cross by the end of it.” She pouted.

“Oh, I see.” Edmond lifted a hand, running his fingers over his lips to keep from laughing. However, despite his best efforts a choked chuckle still escaped.

Sylvia’s head snapped up, eyebrows knitted and mouth opened slightly in distress. “You’re laughing!” she accused.

“No, I’m not.” Edmond shook his head vehemently even as his lips quivered.

“You are! You’re laughing at me,” she all but whined. “That is terribly rude, it was very upsetting. They were such pretty tea sets. One even had roses on it, running around the edge.” One hand lifted up, her finger drawing a circle.

Their eyes met then, cornflower blue to navy, and they burst out laughing. It took them both several moments to regain their composure, and even then small giggles crept up here and there.

“All right, let’s get started.” Edmond smiled and held out his hand to Sylvia.


	5. Chapter 5

The day after everyone had started their respective duties, Kam came into the studio a little later than usual, laden with hot coffee and scones. He placed the carriers and bags on his desk, calling everyone in for a quick meeting over the intercom.

Zander came first, oddly cheerful, eyes lighting up when he saw the food. “Did you get a blackcurrant one?” he asked, pawing through the bags.

“Two, actually. One for you and one for Jaden.”

“Can I steal his?”

Kam gave his youngest brother a look full of dismay. “No!”

“Fine,” Zander breathed, took what he deemed to be the larger scone, and sat down in Kam’s leather chair behind the desk.

“Child,” Kam breathed as the others started filing in. Last was Jaden, who moved slowly and stiffly. He sank down onto a chair, face contorted in pain, moaning softly.

“Wat’s wif ‘oo?” Zander asked, mouth full.

“Ramona put me through the paces yesterday, I’m so sore.” He scooted down in the chair, legs straight and a hand over his eyes.

Dmitri and Edmond shared a look, lips quivering. Though it was Kam who spoke, voice full of warning, “everyone leave him alone.”

“You’re no fun!” Zander pouted.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed. Kam crouched next to Jaden’s chair, nudging him with his knuckles. One bloodshot blue eye opened, peering out through splayed fingers.

“Yeah?”

“Come to me after your practice today, I’ll help you stretch.”

“Ah, it’s all right once I get going. Just tired.” Jaden smiled at his brother, then went back to dozing in the chair.

Kam patted his shoulder and straightened up. “How is everyone else coming along?”

“Aces!” Zander said cheerily, still munching away on his scone. “My ballroom class went well yesterday.”

Unsure if he was being serious or not, Kam studied his brother. He truly seemed okay with everything, so he decided it best not to push things. “What about you lot?” He turned to the other two.

“Neven will come,” Dmitri nodded. “He did not tell me which day, but I think soon.”

“That’s fantastic. Did he seem all right?”

Dmitri shrugged, “As good as he can be?”

“I suppose that’s the best we can ask for. For now at least.” He turned on Edmond. “And you? What do you think of the Lord’s Daughter?”

“She is… sweet?” Edmond said slowly. And rather pretty, but he didn’t want to say that to the group at large. Especially if Zander was around. “But she is…. she is.” He sighed, letting out a desperate moan. “She is terrible. She is clumsy and has no grace. I lost count how many times she stepped on my foot. When you arranged this I thought three lessons a week would be too much. Now I think it is not enough.”

Edmond gave another miserable sigh and snatched a coffee from the table, sipping at it moodily. Zander barked out a laugh.

“Here I thought I got the short end of the stick!” He continue laughing as Edmond glared sourly.

“Zander, stop it. Maybe you’d like to step in for Edmond? It’s not too late for him to be replaced….”

“No!” Edmond said, surprising even himself with the outburst. “I mean, she’s shy. I don’t think she would appreciate the switch.” It was a blatant lie, he knew, but he hoped the others wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Fine, just, if you need anything, let me know?” Kam patted the younger man’s shoulder.

“Of course, thank you.” Edmond smiled reassuringly.

“What’ta ‘bout you?” Zander asked, swallowing the last of his scone. “Decided if you’re gonna kill Anton yet? Hot!” he cried when he took a sip of his coffee.

Kam frowned, shaking his head. “I won’t be killing anyone, unless it’s you, _baby brother_.“

“I’m not a baby!” Zander glowered up at Kam. “I hate when you call me that!”

“You’re a baby to me.”

“Only because you’re so _old_.”

“I’m not that old, it only seems that way because you’re so young. And an unwanted surprise.” Kam smirked.

Zander shot up from his chair. “Take that back! I am mum and dad’s pride and joy.”

“Still doesn’t mean you were planned,” Jaden muttered, eyes still closed. “Face it, you were an accident.”

“Your face is an accident!”

Jaden finally opened his eyes to look at Zander, brows knitted. “That was pathetic.”

“That’s enough from the pair of you,” Kam interrupted, speaking over Zander’s indigent reply. “Zander take your coffee and go set up for class; you’re teaching tap today.”

“Tap? Shit, you’re just going to make me teach all the classes aren’t you?”

“All the ones that don’t overlap.”

“Slave-driver.”

“Yes,” Kam agreed serenely.

“Fine, I’m gone. Let me go remember how to do a time-step for chrissake.” He snatched his coffee from the table and headed for the door, but not before waltzing by Jaden and playfully whacking him on the back of the head.

“Little bastard hit me!” Jaden cried, glaring at the door.

Kam reached into one of the bags and pulled out a scone. “Have your treat and shut up.”

“Oh, blackcurrant! My favourite!”

 

***

 

Jaden made his way slowly down the hall to the practice room he and Ramona were using. It was a bit before their scheduled practice at 8am, so Jaden was a little surprised not only to see Ramona already there, but dancing.

A song he wasn’t familiar with piped through the speakers, a woman with a haunting voice. The beat was hard, erratic, and Ramona moved to it naturally.

_La la la la_

Her back was straight, shoulders squared and chest out. Her arms rose over her head, right foot stamping down.

_If I had my way, you would still be stuck on me._

She pitched, one foot lifting in a swirling arch and settling on the floor in a firm placement.

_La la la la_

Skirts in hand, Ramona made a Grand Circle around an invisible partner.

_You know you tore my heart, dear._

She then moved across the floor in a complicated pattern, all firm steps and swishing skirts. It reminded Jaden of something, but he wasn’t sure what. Not the Paso Doble, that much he knew.

When she turned to make her way back, she spotted him in the door. If there was any shock or embarrassment at being caught, she didn’t show it. Only mild surprise.

“You’re here, good.” She walked to the stereo and shut it off.

“What was that?”

“I was just warming up.” She shrugged.

Jaden stepped into the room, moving to her side. “It was good.”

“You think so?” Ramona looked up at him, eyes almost hopeful.

“I do.”

Ramona swallowed, licked her lips. “It’s a combination of the Paso and Flamenco – I’ve danced that since I was a child – my coaches think it’s silly.”

“Nah, it’s great. It suits you, too.”

She looked away, focusing on the table rather than Jaden‘s face. “Well, thank you.”

“I know yesterday was tedious, and we didn’t talk much. But,” Jaden stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t have the best history, I know that. I just, I mean we have to work together now. So maybe we just try our best to move on?”

Ramona’s head snapped up and she looked at him closely, eyes hard. After a moment she relaxed, eyes softening, and waved a hand. “It is, how does the saying go? Water under the bridge?”

“Good,” Jaden nodded. There was a moment of strained silence. “Just us again today?”

“No, I told them to come a little later. I wanted to warm up without them.”

“Ah.”

“They shoul–” as if mentioning them had been their beckoning call, the door opened and Ramona’s group of followers appeared. First was her coach, a former Latin World Champion, and his aide. Her manager walked in wearing a smart suit the color of gunmetal, chattering away in Spanish, a Bluetooth stuck in her ear. Then an assistant to make sure Ramona was where she needed to be, equipped with what she needed, and all around looked after. A large bodyguard filed in after the others, looking grim and steadfast. And, of course, Martino.

The man entered as if he owned the place, tall and proud in an expensive looking suit and hair combed perfectly in place, with just enough product to make it shine under the studio lights.

“Ramona, you left so early this morning. I missed you at breakfast.” He looked only marginally upset about this fact though. He stopped next to her and leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek.

Jaden frowned slightly and looked away, surveying the people gathered. “Quite an audience we’ll have today.”

“I can send them away. Well, except for Senor Acosta – I think a coach is needed, no?” Jaden turned and caught Ramona’s teasing eyes.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt?” He shrugged nonchalantly, a grin tugging the corner of his mouth.

“Good to see you’re taking this so seriously, Jaden,” Martino said sternly, frowning.

“Good to see you’re still lacking a sense of humour, Martino,” Jaden said just as sternly with a mocking frown.

The other man glared, wholly unamused, while Ramona pressed the tip of her finger to her lips, the corners twitching ever so slightly.

Martino finally gave up on glaring at Jaden and whirled around on his heels, stomping to the corner where the assistant sat. Jaden assumed the man would fiddle around with business, whatever the hell it was he did for Ramona’s father.

“All right, what are we starting with today?” Jaden clapped his hands together. He almost hoped someone would say the Rumba. He glanced toward Ramona, lips still quirked amusement, eyes dancing, and cheeks flushed.

Yes, a Rumba would be nice. But only to rankle Martino, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ramona's song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emCiD6jgX6A
> 
> Also this chapter marks the start of a whole bunch of questionable innuendo because I am a mature adult.


	6. Chapter 6

“No, no! How did you ever get anywhere in competitions with a hold like that? You’re like a limp noodle!” Mina waved her arms mockingly, frowning at Anton.

Kam couldn’t help but be a little impressed as he entered the room. Not only were the pair of them there before 8am, Mina was already putting Anton to task.

“Kam! I bet you’ve got a firm hold, come here!” Mina looked at him expectantly, pointing directly in front of her. He gave her a hard look, folding his arms in response.

“Oh, fine!” She rolled her eyes. “Would you please help demonstrate the correct hold for Anton?”

“Of course.” He inclined his head.

Mina gave him an over exaggerated smile. “Thank you," replied in a sugary sweet tone.

Anton let out a sigh, rolling his eyes with hands on his hips. Kam stepped in front of Mina, and waited for Anton to stop huffing like a child so he could pay attention. Kam bowed to Mina formally before they stepped together in Closed Position. His back was ramrod straight, head held high. Even though Mina was tall, taller still in her dance heels, she barely reached his chin.

“A Waltz?” Kam quirked a brow.

“Sounds perfectly lovely!” She gave him a cheeky wink.

Kam pulled her just a bit closer, his hand on her upper back, hers resting primly on his bicep, fingers straight. Kam led her in an easy Waltz around the room, practically floating with the light footwork.

“You’re retired, how come?” Mina looked up at him, and he thought her eyes seemed impossibly large and impossibly blue.

“I decided I preferred coaching, teaching.”

“Which includes Anton?”

“It does now.”

“Interesting.” Kam wasn’t sure what to make of her tone or face, and thought it better if he didn’t try. They ended their Waltz at Anton’s side, but Kam did not release Mina. He focused on Anton, willing the man to listen to him.

“Do you see now? Strong arms, good carriage. You can’t let that slip or the judges will tear you apart.”

“I understand.” Kam thought Anton looked more like a petulant child rather than a grown man. 

“Remember your control, and your breathing--”

“I _understand._ This isn’t my first time dancing or partnering or competing.”

“All right, fine.” Kam let go of Mina, stepping back. “I was thinking about choreography last night. I have some steps to practice for a new Foxtrot routine. Let me put on some music, then I'll show you.” He walked to the stereo as Mina and Anton moved into place.

As he set the music, he took a deep breath and realized he could still smell Mina’s perfume. It was a light and fresh, wholly pleasant. He wondered how long it would take to disperse, it was a bit distracting.

 

***

 

Edmond was let into the mansion by the butler, whom he found to be rather distant and cold – so unlike his employers. The man insisted on escorting Edmond to the ballroom, even when he explained that he knew the way. Edmond supposed that was part of the job.

“Miss Sylvia is with her tutor now. If you’ll wait a moment, I shall announce your arrival.”

“Fine,” Edmond nodded. When the butler left to fetch Sylvia, Edmond meandered around the ballroom, looking at the art pieces on the walls. He glanced out the windows at the far end, noted a tree just beneath the sill. Its branches were loaded with buds, slow to open. Resting between two forked branches was a small nest holding three chirping robins, all vying for their mother’s attention while she fed them.

Edmond watched them intently until he heard hushed voices. He turned and realized one of the doors had been left slightly ajar, the voices carrying in from the hall. Curious, he crept forward and peered through the crack. He saw Sylvia talking with a young woman in plain clothes; her back was turned and he could not see her face, just a crown of short, dark hair.

“Oh, but Adelaide I do wish you would reconsider. My instructor is ever so nice, and patient….. I’m sure I stepped on his feet at least fifteen times!” Sylvia cried, burying her face in her hands.

“I’m sure it wasn’t all that bad.” The young woman reached out and patted Sylvia’s shoulder.

“It was!” Sylvia looked up sadly. “But he never once got cross! I’m sure it would be okay if you joined in, then we can learn to dance together!”

“Sylvia, dear,” the dark haired woman sighed. “I very much appreciate the offer, you know I do. But I wish to do this on my own. This has nothing to do with you, but myself, I hope you understand that? I just feel I need to do it on my own. The studio and class seem very nice, and the teacher is very capable.”

“All right,” Sylvia acquiesced with a small pout.

“Besides, you’ll learn better on your own. More time to focus on what you need, it’s more important for you anyway. My wanting to learn is just whimsy.”

“And mine isn’t? I know everyone thinks I’ve lost my mind to want to do this.” Sylvia sighed. “At least you have coordination.”

“Sylvia, don’t think like that. That’s what practice is for, and what a teacher is for. Remember how things started between us? Look how far you've come! You'll learn.” The girl reached out and hugged Sylvia tightly. “Now go on, mustn’t keep your instructor waiting.”

“Thank you, Adelaide.” Sylvia returned the hug, giving the girl an extra squeeze before letting go. “Did I tell you that he’s handsome… and French!?”

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice. Now shoo!” She laughed lightly and pushed Sylvia toward the door.

“Bye!” Sylvia waved over her shoulder, and Edmond had just enough time to quickly scurry away from the door. He turned, pretending to inspect the fireplace built into the wall, already prepping a speech about the intricate work, but the door never moved. He turned back, eyebrow quirked.

“Edmond? Are you in there?” Sylvia called, one slim hand waving through the small crack in the door.

“I’m here,” he said as he stepped toward the door again.

“Oh, good! Would you mind terribly giving me – EEK!” she shrieked as she tumbled over the threshold when Edmond pulled the door open. Sylvia stumbled into him, hands on his chest, his body the only thing keeping her from landing on the floor.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “…. me a hand?” she finished. Edmond nearly smiled, he felt his lips twitch once, but managed to control himself, composing his face. Sylvia seemed vaguely entranced, then she snapped to, shaking herself before pulling away.

“I am so dreadfully sorry! I hate those doors, I mean, they’re _beautiful_ , but they’re so darned heavy and I can’t move them!” She wrung her hands. “I’m afraid I was trying to push it just as you pulled it open.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, perfectly all right!” She smiled brightly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Shall we get the lesson started?”


	7. Chapter 7

Teaching tap to a group of unruly children was not how Zander had expected his day to go. Though he had to admit it was very enjoyable. They were so full of energy, so excited to learn. A few were there merely to make noise, but he couldn’t really fault them for that, it _was_ rather fun.

He decided to take a quick break before his junior ballroom class in the afternoon – the kids had been fun, but tiring. Zander thought to sneak back to the room Jaden and Ramona were in, hoping he might catch Ramona throwing a shoe at Jaden’s head. It was only a matter of time, after all.

Passing by one of the unused practice rooms, he realized it wasn’t as deserted as he first thought. Backtracking he peered through the door, and found Miss Adelaide practicing footwork in front of the mirrors. She was dressed similarly to the other day: dark skirt, blouse and cardigan. She had on the same pair of black practice shoes, and he smiled, walking into the room.

Miss Adelaide was very intent on her footwork, her head down as she counted out a grapevine step. Her hands were held up, shoulder level, gripping an imaginary partner. She had her shoulders back and down, like he had said, and her neck was long even as her eyes were focused on her feet.

“Very good frame,” he said softly, coming to a stop behind her. She gasped and whirled around, eyes wide and cheeks darkening in a blush.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked harshly, then shook her head. “I mean, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Zander grinned widely, teeth showing, and brushed back a few stray curls. “You must have a wonderful teacher.”

Adelaide pressed her lips together, trying not to smile, and rolled her eyes. “He’s fine, I suppose.”

“Let me guess? He’s a bit of a show off?” Zander grabbed her hand, twirling her out before pulling her back in, close.

Held so closely, her eyes seemed so clear, so blue, and he could see himself reflected in them. He smiled at her, watching how her fair cheeks flushed crimson. The blush seemed to go all the way down her smooth neck, dipping below the collar of her blouse.

Adelaide cleared her throat and pulled back, brushing his hand away. “Are you always so… familiar with your students?” she asked, straightening her shirt.

Zander laughed lightly, which seemed to make her blush deepen even more. “Nah, love, that’s a standard hold. Trust me, you’d know if I was being, uh, _familiar_.” He continued to grin at her and held out his hand.

“I won’t bite, promise.” He wiggled his fingers, inviting her. Eying it as if it were a dangerous animal ready to snap at her, Adelaide delicately laid her hand in his.

“You need to relax is all,” he told her as he drew into Closed Position. “Dance is a lot about performance, you act the part.” He pulled her closer again for a Waltz. “You’ll have to get used to it, just be glad this isn’t Latin dance…. I’m afraid you might self-combust if you had to try a Rumba.”

Adelaide pursed her lips, brow darkening in annoyance. “Yes, well. That’s all fine. Thank you. I’ll continue practicing on my own.” She pulled away and turned her back.

“All right, have fun then. I’ll see you next class.” He turned to leave, but Adelaide’s soft voice stopped him.

“Perhaps,” she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Zander turned back, eyebrows lifted. “I thought you didn’t give up easily?”

She turned startled eyes on him, then straightened, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her head haughtily. “I don’t.”

“Good,” he nodded with a smile. “Then I’ll see you next class.”

 

***

 

Six days after the big announcement – five days of training with Anton and Mina – Kam stood on the main floor of studio. The area was wide and open, various halls leading off to private studios and the daycare, there was a reception desk by the door that stood empty in the early hours. The back wall was lined with mirrors and practice bars, and the hardwood floors were scuffed and marred from various heels and tap shoes clicking across it.

Everything was quiet before opening, peaceful and tranquil – it was a private time Kam loved, and something he was in great need of. It was a time for him to work on choreography uninterrupted. As he planned out a pattern in his mind before attempting it in reality, he was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening. Uneven footsteps fell against the floor, punctuated by a hallow thump.

“I’m sorry we–” As Kam turned around the words died on his lips. Making his slow way into the building was Neven Veremchuk. His auburn hair fell around his shoulders in a wave; once it had been glossy and immaculate, but now it was an unkempt mess in great need of combing. His face was covered in a bushy beard that probably hadn’t been trimmed since it started growing. His brown eyes were narrowed coldly as he marched up to Kam.

“Neven, good to see you,” Kam said slowly, wondering how the Ukrainian had made it onto a plane when he looked like a reprobate.

Neven stopped in front of Kam, his right leg straightened slightly, all of his weight on his left foot and cane. His eyes looked slightly pinched and his lips were a thin line, which Kam knew meant he was in great pain merely standing there.

“Would you like to have a seat….?”

“No, I am here for a moment only.” Neven’s voice was a deep, gravelly growl. “Here.” He held out an envelope, slightly bulging.

“What’s that?” Kam arched an eyebrow dubiously, but took it from Neven nonetheless.

“Consider it partial payment for what I owe you. I will not be coaching.” He turned to leave but Kam stopped him with a loud snort.

“I hope this was earned legitimately. I’m not taking dirty or laundered money, Neven.”

“I earned it by working, that all you need know,” Neven said over his shoulder, then started walking again.

“So that’s really it? You’re going to come all the way here just to give me some money?”

Neven turned to look at Kam, eyes cold. “I will not be a coach. I will not play babysitter to Dmitri. And I will certainly not be a choreographer. Ever. You can take that,” he nodded to the parcel in Kam’s hand. “I will get you the rest when I can, then we will be even.”

“Fine, be like that. Be a stubborn bastard! But I’m done playing nice. You and I both know you owe me a fair bit more than some damned Euro!” He waved the envelope. “I’m in debt now, might lose the studio and my business, all because I fronted a lot of money for you. Not to mention I risked my neck to save your stupid ass. You _owe_ me.”

“Using guilt to get what you want? I thought you were above that?” One thick, ruddy brow shot up accusingly.

“Normally, yes, but not this time.”

They stood watching each other, Kam full of righteousness and Neven full of anger. Neither one backed down in their staring contest – pale, jade green to deep, nut brown.

Finally Neven looked away, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly through his nose. He let loose a string of Ukrainian so viciously, that Kam had to assume he was cursing him to hell and back.

“I hate when you rant and I can’t understand you,” Kam said mildly.

“You are a bastard,” Neven growled.

“But you’ll be staying?”

“Yes, I’ll stay!” he spat, heading toward the entrance. Before he got out the door he added another barked ‘bastard’ over his shoulder, and nearly crashed into the person who had just arrived at the studio.

“OI! Watch where ya goin’!” the young woman shouted. Her accent was thick, elongating her vowels, rounding them. She brushed back glossy brown curls, glaring up at Neven. He scowled at her, refusing to offer up any form of apology.

Sighing, Neven brushed past her, his shoulder knocking hers and his cane nearly missing her toe in the process.

“Wot’cha fink ya doin’, ya twat!?” she called after him, fists balled at her side. He continued onto the street as if he hadn’t heard her. Kam walked to the young woman's side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Leave him, Maggie, he’s just being an ass right now.”

“Ya know him?” She looked up at Kam, blinking emerald coloured eyes in confusion.

“That’s Dmitri’s brother, Neven…. your new coach.”

“No!” she gasp, dragging out the word into several syllables.

Kam nodded slowly, “I’m afraid so, but he isn’t so bad once you get to know him.” He glanced out the door, then caught Maggie’s eye. “I hope.”


	8. Chapter 8

Neven holed up at Dmitri’s place for two days before he decided it was time to actually follow through on his word to Kam. The morning he finally broke, Dmitri had already gone to practice, leaving Neven alone for a few hours. He stood, towel around his waist, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He leaned heavily on the porcelain sink, keeping weight off his leg, and brought his face in close to the glass.

“You’re a mess,” he muttered to his reflection. He looked at the razor Dmitri had bought him, sitting innocuously on the lip of the sink, and frowned. “Not today.”

He hobbled to the toilet, slammed down the lid, and sat heavily, letting out a groan of discomfort. He lifted the edge of the towel, exposing his right knee. The three inch scar running along the side of the knee was thick and jagged, visual proof of the hack job done by the doctors. Not that he really needed one: the pain was a constant reminder.

Gently prodding the area around his knee, he could hear the doctors’ voices still, talking things over, even though he’d been high as a kite on morphine.

“ _The patella was shattered, the entire knee twisted, and the anterior cruciate ligament might be damaged. It’s going to be a mess in there…_ ”

Neven bared his teeth thinking about them. It had been a mess in there, and it still was: bone fragments that hadn’t aligned properly when they healed, ruined ACL, damaged ligaments, no cartilage, and bits of metal and wire that irritated when he walked.

Growling under his breath, Neven lurched to a standing position and moved back to the sink. He ignored the razor and brushed his teeth. He did take the time to comb his wet hair, pulling it back and securing it with a tie at the nape of his neck.

Scratching his beard, he shook his head. “You’re a damned cripple, what do you even think you’re doing?”

 

***

 

When Neven arrived at the studio, he was greeted by a happy young woman with curly red hair behind the counter. Ignoring the receptionist he spotted Zander teaching a class of children in the main room. Neven threw up his hand in a half wave at Zander before moving down the halls to find Dmitri.

Limping along, Neven peered into practice rooms until he finally found Dmitri and his partner in the last one. He lurched into the room, tore off his jacket, and threw it onto brother’s things in the corner.

Turning around Neven found Dmitri and a young woman staring at him. Frowning slightly, he tried to place the young woman, then realized she was the same one from the other day.

She gave him a haughty look, eyebrows lifted while Neven actually surveyed her. Her long hair was pulled back in a messy bun, stray curls escaping in corkscrews around her head. Her loose sweater did little to hide her curves, all incredibly long legs and hips and breasts. Her dark green eyes were narrowed in obvious ire, and her full lips were set in a scowl.

“Neven, good of you to join us,” Dmitri spoke slowly, as if to a wild animal he was trying to calm. Neven glanced at his reflection then back to Dmitri. It was little wonder really, in the past they looked enough alike: the same build, tall and muscular, the same dark hair and thick brows, same wide smile and warm eyes. Now Neven looked feral while his brother was perfectly polished.

“This is my job now. You are supposed to win, yes?”

“That would be good.” Dmitri nodded.

“Then you will work hard.”

“We will.” Dmitri nodded again, turned slightly, and held out his hand to the young woman. “Neven this is my new partner, Maggie Donovan. Maggie, this is Neven.”

“We met the other day, didn’t we. Nearly smashed my toes, ya wanker!” She frowned deeply at Neven, he only shrugged in return.

“Accident.”

“Accident my arse!” Maggie rolled her eyes to the heavens and turned her back, arms crossed. Dmitri walked over to Neven and gripped his elbow firmly, whispering in Ukrainian.

“What happened?” he growled.

“I ran into her when I came to see Kam. She called me a twat; I brushed past her. No big deal.”

Dmitri narrowed his eyes. “Maggie might swear more than you, but she has a kind heart and she rarely gets angry like this. What did you do?”

“I brushed past her, my cane might have gotten close to her foot. These things happen.” Neven lifted a shoulder, indifferent.

“Those things happen when you want them to. Go apologize.”

“I did nothing wrong.”

Dmitri sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just do it.”

“Fine!” Neven glared at his brother, then walked to Maggie, who stood silently huffing to herself. “I am sorry for other day. I was angry, but it was no good to take it out on you.”

Maggie turned and met his eyes; chin lifted, eyebrow quirked. She looked him up and down, arms still crossed. Finally she met his eyes again and shrugged lightly. “Apology accepted… you’re still a bit of a twat though.”

She looked at him squarely, challengingly, and he returned her gaze, unwavering. However, unlike most everyone else in his life, Maggie did not back down from him-- much like Kam.

Neven looked away first, glancing toward Dmitri. “Set the music, let me see you two together.”

 

***

 

They practiced for several hours; Neven diligently correcting form and hold and footwork. He used his cane to rap out beats, or as an extension of his arm – directing them where to go, or prodding them for better carriage.

By the time the partners decided to call it a day, Neven was in great pain. His knee throbbed when it was straightened, and was downright excruciating if he had to bend it – making his mood even fouler than normal.

“You should sit for a moment,” Dmitri said, walking up behind him. Neven put his prescription bottle back into his pocket and turned to look at his brother. Dmitri held out a water bottle, but Neven ignored it, swallowing the pills dry – his second dose in as many hours.

“I am fine. We go.” He threw his weight forward to get going, knocking Dmitri’s shoulder in the process. Neven was vaguely aware of Dmitri and Maggie sharing a concerned look as he walked out the door.

Even with a head start it took no time for the dancers to gather their things and catch up to Neven, which annoyed him. The main floor of the studio was quiet at the late hour, only the Ryan brothers were left.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!” Jaden said as soon as he saw Neven. “You look like shit!” he cried happily, eyes bright.

“I am not in mood for you, Jaden.”

“Aw, c’mon now. Remember the circuit? All the fun we had!” Jaden tossed an arm around the taller man's shoulders, grinning.

“If by fun you mean trouble.” Kam made a sour face.

“It was only trouble if we got caught.” Jaden frowned at his brother then focused his attention back on Neven, patting his chest. “Remember when we replaced Zander’s hair gel with shoe polish? That was a beauty!”

Neven looked at Jaden coolly, then to the hand draped across his shoulders. “Please to remove arm, Jaden. I am in no mood.”

“God, you’re no fun. You’ve changed so much.”

“It was long time ago, we all change.” Neven shrugged off Jaden’s arm, pointedly ignoring everyone watching.

“Why don’t we head down to the pub? It’ll be like old times, maybe we’ll get a Sheila or two? That could be some real fun, yeah?” Jaden laughed.

Neven turned back, unamused. “No.”

“Party-pooper. OW! Motherfucker, that hurt!” Jaden cried, arms lifting to cover his head, meaning to fend off any further blows from Neven’s cane.

“Maybe you listen when I say no?”

Jaden rubbed his head pathetically. “Violent bastard.”

“Annoying _vybliadok_.” Neven turned to leave, heading toward the door. He could hear Kam moving to inspect Jaden’s head.

“Why must you antagonize him like that? You brought this on yourself, and you’ve probably just undid any good his coming here has brought about.”

“Nah, Kam! It’s all aces, he’s on his way to recovery!” Neven bit back a smile at Jaden’s words, stepping onto the street.


	9. Chapter 9

Edmond again found himself alone in the grand ballroom at the Teasdale estate. It had been two weeks since he’d started his lessons with Sylvia. That meant it had been six sessions full of grumbling complaints, smashed toes, misinterpreted instruction, clumsy execution, and a fair amount of frustration -- on both sides.

Of course there had also been slim hands held in his, crystal blue eyes that watched him intently when he demonstrated a step, warm, tinkling laughter, and gracious smiles.

Not that any of those things mattered, of course.

Sighing, Edmond looked at the large clock in the room and frowned. She was late. Not just by ten or fifteen minutes as had happened on two other occasions, but nearly forty minutes. Finally the doors opened on the other end, and Edmond knew it was the butler without even turning around.

“Sir?” his dry voice called out.

“Yes?”

“His lordship says you are dismissed for the day.”

Edmond’s brows furrowed. “Is everything all right? Miss Teasdale isn't ill, is she?”

“Everything is quite all right.” The butler made a sour face. “Miss Teasdale is only missing.”

Now Edmond’s eyebrows shot up, eyes widening. “Missing?” he squawked.

“It is not something we worry about, sir. She has a tendency to lose track of time. I'm sure she’s on the grounds somewhere, happily letting the world pass her by. His lordship apologizes for the inconvenience of your trip here.”

“I, um, that is to say it is quite all right. I can see myself out.” Edmond nodded to the butler, skirting around the man and walking through the door. As he walked down the long hallway, Edmond had an odd sense of disappointment.

He was so lost in his thoughts he barely noticed when he reached the end of the hallway, his feet turning right, toward the main entry, without his thinking. As he turned the corner he crashed headlong into a body coming from the other direction.

The figure was small but in such a great hurry that the force sent Edmond wheeling back. Though years of dance had left him quick, with a good sense of balance, and he was able to recover quickly. However, the other person was not so lucky, they ricocheted backward, stumbling before landing heavily on the carpeted floor.

Edmond looked down at the sprawling figure, all long blonde hair and willowy limbs and pouting lips. He stooped down, placing a hand on Sylvia’s shoulder.

“Are you all right?”

“I think so?” she replied sadly. He helped her to stand, doing his best to check her over for an injury. While he was inspecting her, he saw her pants had mud stains on the knees, and there was dirt covering her hands, crusting around her fingernails. Her hair was in complete disarray, bits of grass and globs of dirt stuck in the locks.

“What have you been doing?” he asked, gesturing to the stains, one eyebrow lifted.

“I’m sorry?” Sylvia glanced down at herself, then back up, eyes wide. “Oh! And I’m late! I’m so sorry I made you wait!” She started wringing her hands as she took a deep breath. “The head cook is ill! She always makes this tea for everyone else when they’re under the weather, and her son wanted to do that for her. So I was helping him in the garden, gathering the herbs and things for the tea, but then about halfway through we started playing a bit. I threw a weed at him, just as a joke since he was looking awfully pouty, and told him his mother would be fine. He cheered up a bit at that, and then we got into a weed fight. I thought the gardener would be terribly cross with us for making a such a mess, but he was happy we weeded the beds.” She gave a happy giggle, then shook herself, sobering. “By then I realized how late it was so I came rushing in to clean up so that I could hopefully make our lesson.”

She ended on a deep sigh, and looked up at him with woeful blue eyes. “But now you’re leaving because I am so very late.”

“I can stay, if want to go clean up. Your father had dismissed me, but since you’re here now....”

“Oh!” Sylvia clapped her hands happily. “Would you really stay? You don’t have more important things to do?”

“I’m free the rest of the day.”

“Oh, this is splendid! I would hate to miss a lesson, and I am sorry for making you wait so long.”

“You had a good enough reason.” He smiled gently.

“All right, you stay here and I’ll go clean up quickly!” She scurried down the hall without another glance, heading for the stairs. Edmond shook his head at her retreating figure and started back to the ballroom, his disappointment gone.

 

***

 

By the time the fourth ballroom class rolled around, true to Zander’s speculations, attendance had gone down from twenty-five to fifteen. Still among the students were the couple getting married, the gaggle of tittering friends, and, of course, Miss Adelaide.

Not that she hadn’t tried to get out of it, though. The first time, he had thought it was all in good fun, so he’d teased her. The second time she had brought it up, he had truly thought about letting her withdraw with a refund. But he knew it was only because of shyness, he could see that from the way she dressed, how she carried herself, and for that reason alone he’d told her no.

She had huffed, crossed her arms, and given him quite a cold shoulder the next class. However, they both knew well enough that to matter what he said, however much he goaded, she was still free to leave.

Instead though, she diligently showed up to each class, sometimes she’d stake out a practice room for herself on slower days, and plugged through the lessons. Each class he’d insist on her being his partner when it came time for demonstrations, and would spend a fair amount of time trying to get her to open up.

Over the course of the last few classes he had learned she was currently attending University to become a teacher, and she was a tutor in her spare time. He learned that she favoured the color blue – she seemed to wear it nearly every time he saw her – that she smelled like gardenias, and she smiled very rarely; though it was a very sweet, beguiling smile when it finally peeked out.

“Why don’t you go by Alexander?” It was the first personal question she’d ever asked, every other time it had been him pressing her, or offering up things. Zander couldn’t help but be a little pleased as they twirled around the room, his attention not at all on the other students.

“It’s Jaden’s fault,” he said. “I have two older brothers, you see. Jaden is in the middle, and Kameron is the oldest. Ever since Jaden could talk he’d always called Kameron, “Kam.” So when I came along, I got stuck with “Zan.” When I started school I just adopted Zander. I like it because it’s more unique, Alexander is so dreadfully common.”

“And you’re not common?” she asked dryly, arching a brow.

“Exactly!” He grinned wide. “Tell me, Miss Adelaide, are you aware there is an Adelaide in South Australia? I grew up in Brisbane myself, but I always heard Adelaide was a lovely place.”

“Yes, I am well aware; we are both named for Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Not a fan?” He grinned, dancing them closer to another couple. “Backs straight,” he reminded them.

“I wouldn’t say that, it’s just I wasn’t overly popular in primary, so the children teased me; my name being used in a lot of inventive ways.”

“Oh dear.”

“Addie Laddie was one; Marmalade another.”

“Well, you are rather sweet.” Zander grinned cheekily. Adelaide gave him a look that he could only describe as frigid.

“You are anything but,” she snapped.

“No, I’m more spicy, myself. Which is good, since I compete in Latin.” He twirled her out. When he brought her back in she did her best to look stern, but her lips were quivering ever so slightly in amusement.

“So, Miss Adelaide? Why ballroom?” He’d been wanting to ask her that since she first signed up, now seemed as good a time as any. Surprisingly she flushed, eyes darting to the floorboards.

“Eyes up.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled and focused back on him. “I, my friend’s coming out is soon. I’m not high society, I know her through tutoring, so I never had one. I wanted to learn so that I might be able to dance at hers.”

“Is that the only reason?” he asked, noting how deep her blush was.

She looked up at him with her huge, entrancing blue eyes. She studied him a moment, debating, before speaking again. “There might be someone I wish to dance with, but he never notices me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re hard not to notice.” He flashed a quick smile before letting go and stepping back. “All right class, I think that’s it for the day.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Where’s Anton?” Kam asked the moment he walked into the practice room. He’d arrived late that morning, an appointment with his bookkeeper – what a lovely thing that had been – keeping him from his usual promptness. He didn’t ask with concern, so much as annoyance. Little blither probably thought he could get away with being lazy. Not on Kam’s watch.

“He has food poisoning, said he was up half the night throwing up. I doubt he’ll make it today,” Mina said absently, walking through their waltz pattern on her own.

“And you showed up?” Kam frowned thoughtfully, he thought for sure she would be the first to take a day off if given the chance.

She stopped and turned to face him, brows knitted and nose wrinkled. “Of course, I wouldn‘t miss practice,” she said and returned to working out the footwork.

“Good on you.” Kam nodded and sat down his things, he’d spent most of the night before working on a new Quickstep routine for them. “I guess I’ll have to step in for Anton. What would you like to work on?”

“What about the tango? It’s always been my favourite.” She whirled around, her long ponytail arcing with the movement and settling on her shoulder, beaming at Kam.

“Very well.”

“Good!” She clapped happily and moved to the CD player, pressing play. A slow, enthralling beat started playing and Kam snorted, it was like she’d had it planned.

“Argentine tango? You know that’s not competition.”

“Oh, we can have a bit of fun, can’t we?” Mina pouted slightly. “After all I was a very good girl, and still managed to show up to practice on time. Even though no one was here.”

“Then how do I know you were on time?” He crossed his arms, eyebrow arched.

“I swear I was here on time.” She smiled widely and crossed her heart, batting her eyes. “Besides, I heard you’re very good at Argentine style. Your grandparents studied there for many years, didn't they?”

“You’ve done your research.”

“I have.”

Kam regarded her for a moment, all big pleading eyes and pouty lips. She clasped her hands under her chin for full effect, and he nearly laughed. “Fine,” he acquiesced with a shake of his head.

Mina grinned, her left cheek dimpling, and met him in the middle of the room. A new song was starting, slow and sensual. Mina took Kam's hands and placed herself in front of him, slightly off center, looking up at him from the corner of her eye.

Just as the song hit a certain beat, she dropped down, left leg outstretched. Everything about the movement spoke of sensuality, and he was sure it was a trick that earned her lots of admiration from others. However, Kam looked at her coolly as she rose slowly, her hands held in his.

The tempo picked up, feverish and intense, their feet moving in quick kicks and flicks as she leaned into him. Then they moved across the floor, gazes locked, her wrists held in one of his hands. They stopped, never taking their eyes off each other, Kam still had her wrists in his grip, loose, but enough he could still feel her pulse under his thumb – erratic and quick, like the thrumming bass of the song. The door creaked and they broke apart.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Anton smirked from the doorway.

“No, we were just practicing.” Mina moved to the table in the corner, shutting off the music.

“I thought you were ill?” Kam asked.

“I was.” Anton did look rather pale, Kam hoped it wasn’t more than food poisoning and voiced his concern.

“No, I assure you it was just some bad curry.” Anton cast a wary glance toward Mina.

“I didn’t know the place was, what do you say? Dodgy?” She smiled serenely.

Kam frowned and turned to Anton, “Well, if you feel you’re up to it..?”

“I believe so, at least for a short while.”

“Very good. Why don’t we start with the waltz?” Kam nodded once and moved to the side of the room.

 

***

 

Early mornings had quickly become Jaden’s favourite time of day, for the sole reason that it meant Ramona wasn’t accompanied by her usual fanfare. They would all start arriving at various times throughout the afternoon, until it felt like they were already on the circuit with a panel judging them. In the mornings though, for a couple of hours, it was just them and her coach, and he was able to actually concentrate.

They were working on their samba routine and Jaden took Ramona’s hand, lifting their joined hands over their heads as they moved through samba rolls. Half way through the set he stopped suddenly, swearing under his breath as he pulled back.

“What the hell is that?” He gestured to her hand.

“What?” She glanced down, frowning. “My engagement ring?”

“Yeah, is it new?”

She threw back her shoulders, standing a little straighter. “No, Martino and I have been engaged for months.”

“Okay, so you haven’t been wearing it, why are you now?”

Ramona sighed, hands on her hips. “He insisted I wear it.”

“Good for him,” Jaden snapped. “But it’s tearing up my hand, so could you lose it for a while?”

“Don’t be a baby!” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m not being a damned baby.” He held out his palm, feeling vindicated when it proved red, though a little shocked to actually see blood. “I believe that’s a cut there. Take it off.”

Ramona made a face, whether annoyance or concern, Jaden wasn’t really sure, but she did take the ring off her finger – it seemed to slip off like it was a bit too large. She inspected it and frowned. “A prong is loose,” she muttered and marched to her bags in the corner of the room, stuffing it into one of the pockets.

Turning back she held up her hands, wiggling her fingers to show they were bare. “Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good, now come here and let me fix up the cut.” She waved her hand impatiently.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Come here.” Her coach started saying something in Spanish, but Ramona waved him off.

Jaden reluctantly obeyed her orders, letting her sit him down in a chair while she pulled a small first-aid kit from her bag. She crouched in front of him, the kit balanced on her thighs while she looked through it. Finally, she pulled a small square from the kit, tearing it open with her teeth. She took out a small bit of gauze from the wrapping and held it above his palm.

“This will sting,” she warned before placing it on his skin. And it did, but he found himself too caught up in staring at her face to really care.

“I am sorry about the ring. I shouldn’t have worn it, I know better.” She kept her attention on what she was doing, and he kept his attention on her. “But I fought with Martino over breakfast this morning, and I thought I would appease him.”

“It’s fine,” Jaden murmured.

“No, it’s not, but that's all right.” She spoke absently, digging through the kit again for a band-aid, and Jaden wasn’t sure if she meant his hand or Martino.

“Ramona…?”

“Hmm?” She finished placing the band-aid on the cut then looked up at him, and suddenly he couldn’t remember his own name.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you. For bandaging me up, I mean.”

She looked at him for a moment, eyes darting around his face, as if searching for something. Then she smiled softly and glanced away, ducking her head. “You’re welcome,” she whispered while she cleaned up and put things away.

The coach greeted someone just arriving, and Jaden looked up to see Martino walking through the door.

“What happened?” He rushed toward them.

“Nothing serious, but my ring cut his hand.” Ramona went about returning the first-aid kit to her bag, not bothering to look up at him.

“Oh,” Martino breathed.

Ramona finished her task and stood slowly, finally looking Martino in the face. “Now do you understand?”

“Yes, I see.”

“Good.” She whipped around and held out her hand to Jaden. “Shall we continue?”

“Um, sure.” Jaden cast a sidelong glance toward Martino, then placed his hand in Ramona’s, letting her yank him up to standing. He shrugged as he moved past Martino, but couldn’t help a satisfied little smirk at the other man’s sour face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice Argentine tango for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ck-xJOz8Sw


	11. Chapter 11

Neven wasn’t one for waiting, never had been. Dmitri was always the patient one, observing things before trying, while Neven had always been the one to jump in headfirst and hope for the best. This system had worked for him growing up, and even with his dance training later on, but it had been less helpful later in life… with certain endeavors.

Either way it wasn’t something that was going to change, in fact he was sure it was getting worse. Which was why he was in the practice room, sitting on a stool and impatiently tapping out a beat with his cane. He sat with his left foot firmly on the floor, his right leg extended and back straight, irritation radiating from his every pore.

“Where is she?” he finally asked his brother.

“I don’t know,” Dmitri replied, looking up from his stretches. “She’s never been late before.”

“Go find her.”

“She’ll be here soon–“

“I said, go find her.” Neven did not look at Dmitri, rather focusing on the tiles of the ceiling; he did not have to look at Dmitri to know he was glaring in annoyance.

“Fine!” Dmitri growled, standing slowly. He sent one last glare toward Neven and walked out the door.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Neven slumped forward, releasing a breath of air in a pained hiss. He pulled out his prescription from inside his jacket. He popped a pill and replaced the bottle, swallowing it dry.

“Does it always hurt then?” Neven thought Maggie was a bit abrasive, rough around the edges, and entirely impossible to understand half the time; but right then, leaning against the frame of the door, a sports bag over her shoulder and her jacket laid across her linked hands, she seemed soft. Her voice was quieter, hair not yet pulled back so it fell in gentle waves around her face. The glow from the lights in the hall bathed her in a golden light, until she was all soft curves and long legs.

He sighed. “Not always.”

“But most of the time?”

“Yes.” He took another deep breath as she entered the room, going to set down her things. “You are late.”

She straightened, back stiff, and turned to look at him, eyes shielded by a fan of thick lashes. “I know, I’m sorry. It was my Gran.”

Neven frowned. “Is ... all right?”

“Yeah, fine. She just needed some extra help this morning.” Maggie frowned and glanced around the room. “Where’s Dmitri?”

“He look for you.”

“Oh.” She looked down, bravado gone, and toed the floor.

“Why you dance?” Neven asked as he stood, limping toward her. “Why you start?”

“My Gran,” she muttered and lifted her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were large and the purest, deepest green like the traveling moss that used to take up the majority of his mother’s garden in the springtime, framed with long, thick lashes that brushed her cheeks when she blinked.

“How so?”

“When I was little she wanted me to take ballet because I’d seen the Nutcracker on the telly and thought it was great. So she enrolled me, and I went to classes four times a week. Then puberty hit; I got so much taller than all the boys and other girls. And do ya know how many curvy ballerinas there are?”

“No?”

“None.” She sighed. “Without classes to go to, I started running around with bad kids. Gran was terribly disappointed, so she looked into other dance classes. She found ballroom, and I sorta fell in luv with it, more than ballet even. So I stopped running with the other kids, and we moved to London so I could train better.”

“Ah,” Neven nodded.

“What’a ‘bout ya? Why dance?” Her voice was harsher again, and Neven wondered if she thought she’d given too much away. He could understand that.

“Our mother, she was dancer, but she marry our father and retire, so she teach instead. When we were young she need boys to stand in, we do it for her. Over time we learn to like it, to love it.”

“Is she still alive?”

“No, they, uh. No, my parents are dead.” Neven shook his head. The fact they were gone still pained him, but he was almost relived they never got to see what a failure their oldest child had become.

“Mine too, they were going to France for their anniversary but the plane crashed. Now it’s just me and Gran,” Maggie mumbled.

“Ah, I am sorry to hear.”

“Me, too.”

They fell into silence and stared at each other, but were finally pulled from their contest by a loud curse as Dmitri entered the room.

“There you are! I was calling!”

“Oh, sorry! Phone’s off for practice.” Maggie shrugged.

“We get under way now?” Dmitri rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I think Quickstep for today,” Neven said. He cast one last look at Maggie as he walked back to the stool in the corner. He settled down carefully while holding back a wince of pain. Today would be a long one, but perhaps not a bad one.

 

***

One month. Kam was in a bit of shock over that. In one way it seemed like only the day before he’d called everyone in for The Damned Meeting, in another it seemed like it had been years. He blamed Anton for that.

He had decided to call another meeting, to check in, and again he brought scones and coffee – whether it was to be nice or a way to bribe everyone, even he wasn’t sure.

They all filed in, Zander less gung-ho than he had been the last time, and Jaden not quite so desolate. Edmond appeared to be just as stoic as before, his face a mask of indifference, while Neven and Dmitri had open hostility coursing between them.

“All right men, how’s it going?” Kam paced in front of the windows overlooking the studio, hands folded behind his back, much like a commander addressing his troops.

“Classes are good, the kids are fun,” Zander said offhandedly, picking the currants out of his scone and eating them one at a time.

“I’m still alive, I call that a win!” Jaden grinned widely then went back to looking at the cups of coffee. “Did you get me a cappuccino?”

Kam made a sour face and marched over to Jaden‘s side, picking the drink up from the crowded table without even looking, and shoving toward his brother. “There.”

“Thanks, Kam! You’re aces!” Jaden sat down next to Zander, nursing the drink.

“I suppose I should thank Neven for gracing us with his presence today.” Kam turned toward the sulking Ukrainian, he was still unshaven and his hair was much too long, but he looked less like a homeless man dressed in what Kam assumed was a dress shirt borrowed from Dmitri and a blazer.

“I have choice?” Neven looked startled, then rolled his eyes.

“How’s it going?”

“Is good, Dmitri and Maggie are ready to compete, I think.”

“We are?” Dmitri blinked and looked at his brother.

“Yes, you do good.” Neven nodded curtly. “Do some small competitions before Blackpool, it will be good.”

“Maybe you should try giving them some positive reinforcement? It looks like they could use it.” Kam frowned at Neven.

“I teach how I like.”

“Of course you do,” Kam muttered, turning to Edmond.“And you?” 

“Everything is good, her father seems pleased. I don’t think the training is going so well, though.”

“He’s been there _a lot_ lately.” Zander perked up, his curls bobbing as he leaned forward. “I think he has a crush!”

“I do not,” Edmond denied quickly even as his face turned red. “Training takes time.”

“Mmmhmm!” Zander hummed, getting up and walking to Kam’s desk. He pulled out the keyboard and typed something quickly. “I Googled Miss Sylvia Teasdale the other day. She’s pretty!” He swiveled the screen around, showing a young woman at some society function with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile.

Jaden raced forward to inspect the picture and cackled gleefully. “Aww! Edmond is this love!?” He whirled around on the dark haired man and pinched his cheek. “ _Petit bébé est dans l'amour!_ ” he said, his intonations atrocious but the meaning still the same.

Edmond frowned and swatted Jaden’s away, glowering at him as he sank back into his chair, arms crossed. “I hate you.”

“But you looooove Sylvia!” Zander sing-songed.

“Leave the boy alone.” Kam’s tone brooked no argument, though it didn’t keep Jaden and Zander from giggling together like children.

Finally composing themselves while Edmond shielded his eyes with a hand, Jaden looked up to Kam. “I suppose we should ask after you, too? How are things going? Do you need anything? Can I help?” He spoke in placating tones, as if he were a therapist.

“Anton is still alive, I call that a win.”

“Aw, Kammy are you finally getting a sense of humour? I’m so proud!” Jaden sniffed loudly, pretending to dab at his eye. “Only took you thirty-five years, better late than never, yeah?”

“Jaden?”

He looked up expectantly, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Hm?”

“Shut up.”

“Righto!” He saluted, then went back to giggling with Zander.

“All right, since no one seems to even really care, just go. Go do whatever it is you do.” Kam waved his hands, shooing everyone away. Jaden and Zander leapt from their seats, grabbing scones and coffee before they left. Edmond ignored the peace offerings on the table and skulked out, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped.

Dmitri hesitated before leaving, looking at Neven still leaning against the wall. When it appeared Neven was not moving anytime soon, he left as well.

Kam stood in front of the windows, watching as Zander and Jaden jostled each other, play fighting. Edmond easily skirted the pair and left. Dmitri marched with purpose down the hall to the practice rooms.

Neven’s uneven footsteps sounded behind him, the burly man stopping at his side. Kam glanced toward Neven: he stood rigidly with one hand gripping the handle of his cane, the other resting on top.

“You are doing good, my friend.”

“Thanks for saying that, doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“It will be good.” Neven turned away from the windows, and placed his hand on Kam’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Everything will be good.”

“I hope so,” he murmured.

“It will. You are stubborn, you will not go without fight.” Neven’s lips curled slightly, his eyes much lighter than Kam had seen in what felt like a century.

Neven gave one firm nod then lurched in action, making his slow way out the door. Before he left completely Kam turned around and caught his attention. 

“Thank you, Neven.”

“Bah!” He waved his hand dismissively, glancing back over his shoulder. “Thank _you_.”


	12. Chapter 12

Zander’s day off hardly felt like one. He’d been put in charge of picking up Dmitri and Maggie’s costumes from the seamstress, Jaden’s new shoes, cleaning supplies for the studio, drop off paperwork to the bookkeeper, not to mention all things he needed to do for himself.

As Zander left the bookkeeper’s in the afternoon, heading to the record store for new music for his ballroom class, he came to a sudden realization.

“I really _am_ a slave!” Muttering curses under his breath, he entered the record store that Kam usually frequented and found that perhaps his luck was not so bad after all. In the back was a crop of dark hair hiding a familiar heart-shaped face.

Smiling to himself, Zander strolled to the back of the shop and stopped next to his target. “Well, Miss Adelaide, what are the odds?”

She startled at his voice and blinked rapidly. “Z-Zander? What are you doing here?”

“I was just running an errand for Kam,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I was stopping in here to get some new music for class. What about you?”

“Oh, um, I was picking up some sheet music.” She nodded to the rack in front of her.

“Is that so? What do you play?”

“The harp,” she said shyly. “I was looking at getting Mozart’s concerto for Flute and Harp, the second movement.” She spoke in a nervous rush, letting out a breath of air.

“Ah, that’s a lovely piece.” Zander nodded. “I’m impressed you play, I always wanted to learn an instrument, but dance takes up so much time with rehearsal and touring and competitions. Maybe once I retire?”

He leaned back against a table containing rows of vinyl records, arms crossed loosely and smiled at Adelaide. “Why the harp?”

“My grandmother played and I inherited hers when I was a child.” She stopped and blinked. “But I love it though, it has such a beautiful, melancholy sound to it. I play because I want to, not because it’s expected.”

“Like why you’re taking dance?”

She nodded, “exactly.”

“Well good on you, Miss Adelaide!” Zander pushed away from the table and clapped his hands. “I’m sure you know quite a lot about classical music then? What do you say to helping me pick out a few new things, hm?”

“I-I suppose so, I don’t have anything planned for the day.” She picked out the sheet music she wanted, holding it lightly in her hand. “What are you looking for?”

“Well, I was hoping to get Astor Piazolla, he’s a favourite of mine. But I’m open to anything.” Adelaide hummed softly, moving to the rows of compact discs.

They browsed for close to an hour – Zander had only meant to pick up the one album, and he had many other things still to do that day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They chatted lightly about music, and he discovered the quiet Miss Adelaide was quite passionate and fond of all genres.

As Zander was purchasing his now extensive collection of music, her mobile phone went off. She frowned, confused, as she looked at the screen. She hit answer and put it to her ear.

“Sylvia?” There was a pause, Zander couldn’t make out the words but the person on the other end seemed to be speaking rapidly. He accepted his change and bag from the cashier. Adelaide held up her hand and mouthed ‘one moment’, and they stepped into a quieter corner.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. No, I know it’s a special day, but if the fabric–” she paused again. “All right, I’ll come and help you pick out something else. Yes, I’ll be in there a little while, I’m uptown. Yes, the music store.” She laughed softly. “All right, goodbye, Sylvia.”

She clicked off her phone and placed it back in her bag, then looked up to meet Zander’s eyes. “I’m sorry, it seems I have to help my friend with her ‘crisis’.”

“That’s quite all right. I’ve kept you long enough, I suppose.”

“No, don’t be sorry, I had a-a lovely time.” She smiled at him shyly.

“Why don’t I walk with you for a bit? I’ve nowhere else to be for a while.“

Adelaide blinked up at him and then nodded. “That would be… nice,” she said softly. As they walked down the street, heading in the opposite direction Zander needed to be, he thought about Adelaide’s conversation.

“Your friend,” he said slowly, “is she the debutant?”

“Yes,” Adelaide said, the word ending on a hiss. “She’s very concerned with everything being positively perfect, not that I can blame her, I suppose, but it’s getting rather out of hand. The fabric she wanted for her dress won’t work for the pattern, so now she needs to pick another.” Adelaide rubbed her forehead as they stepped out into the street. “I’m supposed to help.”

“And this is Sylvia…. Sylvia Teasdale?” Zander blinked at the sudden realization.

“It is. Do you know her?” She looked up at him, eyes wide and lips pursed.

“No, my friend, Edmond, he’s her dance instructor.”

“OH!” Adelaide’s eyes became comically large before she collected herself. “That’s interesting,” she finally muttered to herself, lips twitching.

Zander tilted his head, one brow arched. “How so?”

“I just…. well, I think it’s funny everything is connected. Do you know she had wanted me in on the instructions as well, after I had showed interest in learning, but I wanted to do it on my own.”

“Of course you did.” Zander smiled.

“I’m actually glad I refused now.”

“Is that so?” Zander leaned forward, trying to catch her eye as they walked. She blushed slightly and looked away.

“Well, she fancies him quite a bit you know, I think it’s best I’m not there,” she said hastily, the blush growing stronger.

“Does she!? Now that IS interesting.” A gleeful look came to his eyes. “I’ll have to inform him of that development!”

“No! Please don’t!!” Adelaide stopped suddenly and gripped his arm with both hands. “She would flay me if she knew!”

“But what if–”

“No, you must promise me you won’t tell him. She would die of embarrassment, as would I.” She looked up at him imploringly and he found himself unable to resist.

“Fine, I won’t say a word.”

“Oh, thank you!” Adelaide smiled happily, wider than he had ever seen before, and let go, starting down the block again.

“So you met Miss Teasdale through tutoring?” Zander asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Mmm,” Adelaide nodded. “Her father wanted a tutor closer to her own age, I’ve known her about four years.”

“She’s become a friend then?”

“Oh yes, the absolute best! She’s so open and caring, not at all like you’d expect a lord’s daughter to be. I’ve tutored other girls of high society, none of them were like Sylvia.” She shook her head slowly, a fond smile tugging the corner of her mouth.

“And this is how you met the young man, the one you’re hoping to impress?” He ventured carefully.

“I, uh.” Her brows knitted together tightly, a crease forming between them. “He’s Sylvia’s cousin, on her mother’s side. He’s very intelligent and kind and well spoken. We would be a good match.”

“If he noticed you?”

“Correct. I fear he’s known me so long he doesn’t realize I’ve grown up. I just thought if I could show myself as a lady, he might…. he might see me differently.” She twisted her hands together nervously, eyes focused on the hedge lining the street rather than Zander.

“Ah, I see. Well, you’re coming along well in class. I say you’ll be quite proficient by the time her party rolls around.” He suddenly regretted ever broaching the subject with her. He thought he quite regretted a lot of things. They reached the end of the block, and he inclined his head, not quite a bow, but still very proper.

“This is where I must say goodbye, I have errands to finish.”

“Oh, all right.” She seemed disappointed but Zander wasn’t paying enough attention to take much notice. “Thank you for walking me, and thank you for the chat. It’s been lovely,”

“Yes,” he nodded curtly. “I’ll see you in class.” He turned around and started heading back to the seamstress’s shop.

“Goodbye, Zander!” she called after him.

“Goodbye.” He turned around, gave her a quick smile, and then he was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

“I don’t know about this?” Maggie looked down at the green sequined dress, frowning. It was a bright peridot color, the skirt billowed around her legs, sequins glittering and sparkling with every flowing swish. Two longer folds were connected to bands on her wrists, arcing upward. The bodice was a half-corset style, covered in shimmering gems, and accentuating every lush curve of her body. Everything was beautiful, but the bodice was where her concern lie.

“One shoulder? I’m too busty! I’m gonna pop out of this damned thing, just ya watch. Can’t I have a nude leotard? Why does it have to be bare skin?” She sighed, hands on her hips. "This isn't Latin!"

“The dress is good. It look good.”

“Fine for ya to say, ya wanker!” She crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up and forward. Maggie frowned deeper. “SEE!”

“Is design to stay,” Neven said. “Just do waltz, you will see.”

“Bloody tosser,” she mumbled to herself. “You vill see,” she lowered her voice, speaking in a bastardized Ukrainian accent, and Neven rolled his eyes in his disgust.

Maggie heaved a despondent sigh and let Dmitri draw her into closed position, arms held high, neck long and face turned. They looked the part of ballroom champions, Neven thought. He started the music for their waltz, and they glided across the floor in sure, fluid movements.

They did a lean back, her back perfectly straight as Dmitri bent at the waist, the move executed perfectly. However, Maggie’s arm stretched just a bit farther, the dress not moving with her, and she popped out.

She let go of Dmitri, straightening up in a scramble, hands going to cover her chest and try to right the dress. She moved quickly, but not quick enough, giving the Veremchuk brothers a full show.

“I TOLD YA! YA TWAT!” she roared at Neven and stormed out of the room, heading to the lockers. Both men stayed put, blinking in wonder.

A few minutes ticked by and Maggie returned, still angry and dressed in her regular practice clothes. She had the dress in its garment bag and thrust it at Neven.

“Now will ya get me the lining I want?”

“Yes,” Neven nodded dumbly.

“Good!” She whirled around on her heel and marched up to Dmitri. “Practice is still on,” she informed him, holding up her arms.

Dmitri seemed unable to focus though. Maggie snapped her fingers in front of his face, his reaction doing nothing to lessen her dark mood. Finally he shook himself out of his stupor and grinned at her.

Neven glowered at his brother. Dmitri had always been known as a ladies man in the dance world, his good looks and natural charm earning many tittering followers. However, this was not the time, nor the place, nor the person for that. Neven marched forward, the garment bag in hand and brought down his cane on Dmitri’s foot; not enough to injure him, but enough to gain his attention.

“Tongue back in your mouth, _kurvee_ ,” he growled. “You see much more on circuit. You must be professional.” Neven glared at Dmitri until the other man stood down, though it was apparent he had not taken kindly to be chastised in front of Maggie.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Now back to practice!” Neven limped to his stool in the corner, the dress bag laid over his legs. He would drop it off for alterations later, right now he had other things to worry about. Like the fact he could never look at Maggie in same way again.

 

***

 

“OH! It’s beautiful!” Mina held up the gold dress, rustling the skirts. Gems started at the hip, moving upward across the bodice in a splashing wave. Feathers lined the bottom, peeking out between folds of golden fabric, making the skirt full and light. She twirled around, watching how it glittered under the lights. “Your seamstress is amazing! This is the prettiest costume I’ve ever had, I swear. And the shoes!” She sat the dress aside, picking up the matching heels excitedly.

Kam thought the entire display a little too much, and rolled his eyes. “Child.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re like a child, cooing over fashion like that.”

“Sorry for showing some enthusiasm, I’ll try to be an unreadable stone wall like you!” She wrinkled her nose and went back to inspecting her new costume.

“But why do we need dancewear?” Anton asked. His suit was far less spectacular than Mina’s dress, but still finely made. It was ivory white with long coat tails, the shirt would be white as well with a gold tie and matching pocket square.

“Because I have a plan.” Kam waited for Mina to give him her full attention again before explaining. “I want you to debut as a couple at Blackpool.”

Anton’s face had gone pale. “Come again?”

“You will debut at Blackpool.”

“Are you serious right now? You've lost your ever loving mind!” Mina cried. “That’s like telling someone who just bought their first set of skis that they’ll be debuting on the downhill slalom at the flipping Olympics!”

“No, it’s like telling a well trained professional it’s time to compete for real.”

“But we’re not ready, we’ll be eaten alive!” Anton threw his arms in the air.

“You’ve been there before.”

“With a partner I’d trained with for years! Mina and I will have barely been partners for three months by then. We have no chance of winning.”

“I didn’t intend for you to win. You can practice all you want in an empty room, but you won’t be able to practically apply everything until you’re out on the floor with twenty other couples.”

“This is madness.” Anton shook his head. “Utter madness!”

“It’s a good plan, how else will you learn to compensate if you’re boxed in?”

“That’s illegal.”

“It still happens, sometimes by sheer accident. You need to learn how to handle things as a couple. The only way to do so is to do it in competition.”

“So you’re just throwing us to the sharks? Thanks, coach!” Mina gave him a thumbs up, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not throwing you to the sharks, I’m letting you compete. You are both highly skilled and you’ve done well in practice. I think Blackpool will be a good thing,” Kam explained calmly.

“You can go out there, we can see how the routines hold up in competition. You can debut now, and then when you start the circuit next year, people will be excited. Just make sure they remember you… but do so by following the rules.” He caught Mina’s eye and held it. She returned his gaze, completely unperturbed.

“I’m not losing!” Anton moaned.

“Losing is not a bad thing, you can learn from it. And honestly, getting knocked down a peg or two won’t hurt either of you.”

Anton snorted loudly, “You’re a fine one to talk of arrogance.”

“You came to me, remember? You’re more than welcome to go out there and find another coach. Perhaps one that will coddle you? Tell you just how wonderful you are, stroke your ego. Please,” Kam rolled his eyes, “you think highly enough of yourself without anyone else telling you anything one way or the other.”

“And you,” he whirled on Mina.

“And me? What did I do!?”

“You think this is all a game, don’t you? A chance to play dress up and do as you please, but there are rules and structure and you would do well to learn to abide by it.”

“I am not a little girl, thank you very much!” Mina fumed. “I’ve been dancing since I was six. I am a champion competitor in Standard and Latin styles, not to mention well accomplished in ballet and tap. Dance is my life, and don’t you dare think any differently! I will go to Blackpool, and I will dance until my feet bleed if that’s what it takes to prove it to you!”

She was spitting like an angry cat, her hair fairly bristling around her face. It was the first time he’d ever seen any real passion from her, the first time that she seemed to take everything seriously. 

Despite himself, Kam smiled, “Good. 

Mina seemed disarmed by his smile, confused, but she relaxed. “Okay,” she mumbled.

“What about you Anton?”

“I’ll do it.” He sighed. “It appears I have no choice.”

“Good. Why don’t you go put on your costumes? You can do a dress rehearsal.” Kam clapped his hands together.


	14. Chapter 14

“Ready for me to drop a bomb!?” Jaden said happily, walking into practice. Ramona was already there with her coach, and, surprisingly enough, Martino.

“Do I have a choice?” Ramona tilted her head, hands fisted on her hips.

“Yeah, nah.” Jaden laughed and shook his head. “Kam wants our debut as a couple to be at Blackpool!” He spread his hands wide, waggling his fingers.

“ _No! Esta loco!_ ” Ramona threw her hands up, starting to rant in Spanish.

Jaden shrugged, unperturbed by her reaction. “Apparently he’s doing the same thing for Anton and Mina, it’s part some big scheme of his.”

“Your brother?” Ramona stopped and tapped the side of her head, “Is crazy! We are not ready for Blackpool, we’re barely ready for a smaller competition!”

“What is this plan of his?” Martino cut in, obviously intrigued.

“He’s hoping that it will cause a big sensation if we debut in Latin while Anton and Mina debut in Standard. We just have to do well enough to get people talking, and once the new season starts and we start on the circuit, we’ll have sponsors lining up.”

“Assuming we don’t fail miserably at Blackpool.”

“He told me he had faith in our skills. I personally think working with Anton Cromwell nearly everyday for a month has short-circuited his brain.” Jaden lifted one shoulder, the corner of his mouth curled.

“I don’t know, his idea has merit. Just hear me out!” Martino added hastily when both Jaden and Ramona turned on him. “Everyone knows your names, same for Anton and Mina. Because they know your names they expect big things. What’s bigger than debuting as couples at Blackpool? You're good enough to be talked about, maybe even make some other competitors nervous. It’s… uh, it’s very–“

“It’s fucking ballsy, is what it is.” Jaden sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I suppose it makes sense.”

“Then we’re doubling practice, I will not make a fool of myself at Blackpool.”

“Fair enough.” Jaden nodded.

“Martino, calling Francesca, we’ll need costumes started as soon as possible.” Ramona was already grabbing Jaden’s hand, leading him to the center of the room. “Do you like red?”

“Fine by me,” Jaden laughed.

“Tell her I want red!” Ramona turned her attention back to Jaden while Martino proceeded to pull out his mobile phone. “Let’s work on the Paso.”

 

***

The ballroom at the Teasdale estate was still, the doors closed, shutting out all household sounds; no music played, no heels clicked against the wooden floors, no voices speaking instructions or grumbling protests. The draperies on the windows were pulled back, letting in shafts of bright sunlight and dust motes trailed around lazily in the glow.

In the corner two chairs had been pulled out. Edmond sat in one, ankle resting atop the opposite knee. He was slouched forward, shoulders stooped, his elbow balanced on his right knee, hand cupping his cheek. Sylvia sat across from him, unconsciously mimicking his pose, a pout firmly in place.

“I’m terrible,” she moaned. “How will I ever dance at my party? I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can” Edmond dropped his right foot to the floor and braced his hands against his thighs as he stood. Straightening up he held his hand out to Sylvia. “We’ll just practice more.”

“But we’ve already practiced so much and I’m no better than when I first started!”

“That’s not true, you don’t step on my toes nearly as much,” he said, lips twitching. However, this did not have the desired effect as Sylvia let out a cry of dismay, and buried her face in her hands.

Edmond couched in front of her, touching her knee gently to gain her attention. “You can do this. I know you can. I believe in you.”

Sylvia’s eyes slowly began peeking out through her splayed fingers, and she regarded him for a long moment. “Do you mean that?” she asked, voice muffled by her palms.

“I do.” He smiled encouragingly. He began to wonder how many people ever told her that. He’d learned enough about her only real friend, Adelaide; she was extremely supportive, but aside from her he wasn’t so sure. Sylvia's father loved her, that much was clear, but he wished to change to her. Make her more of a lady. Edmond thought back on his first meeting with the Lord: even if he loved her, it seemed clear now that he held a bit of disappointment.

That, he thought, would never do. Sylvia was a lovely girl, caring and open and sweet. Even if she wasn’t the most graceful person, Edmond thought she was a lady in the truest sense of the word. Probably more so than half the women who would be attending her party.

Shaking his head, Edmond stood again and held out his hand. “Come on,” he nodded.

Sylvia let her hands drop to her lap, still full of doubt. “I just don’t see how I’ll ever be able to do it without making a mess of it.”

“You will. You can. I’m very proud of your progress.”

“You’re just saying that,” she said miserably.

“No, I’m not. You’re getting better, dance is difficult. And doing it well even more so. Come on, Sylvia. Don’t give up now.”

She debated for a moment, looking at his hand, but Edmond could tell she was seeing something else – maybe it was the vision in her head, the perfect ballroom waltz: gliding around in a beautiful gown, head held high as she gracefully twirled across the floor. He would give that to her, he would if it was the last thing he did.

Finally snapping back to attention, Sylvia straightened her back, and delicately slipped her hand into his. He pulled her up gently, guiding her away from the chairs.

Edmond positioned Sylvia near their small stereo and held up a finger. “I have an idea, we’re going to try something different.”

He moved to the stereo, flipping through channels until there was some more upbeat music, not the usual gentle background noise he played for their lessons. Then he walked back to Sylvia and smiled.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand?” 

“You need to relax, have fun again. You’re going to learn the Cha Cha.”


	15. Chapter 15

With seven weeks until Blackpool, Dmitri and Maggie were making their first appearance outside of the UK at the Intentional Open in Verona. It was large, but not overly so, and they had a good chance of placing well.

It was early in the morning, the sun the barely peeking on the horizon, when Dmitri and Neven made their way to check their baggage at Heathrow. Maggie was to meet them there, but it appeared she was running a bit late.

They waited at the end of the counter, waiting for her to arrive. Dmitri stood idly rolling his neck and shoulders between taking sips of his coffee. Neven leaned against the wall, to support his weight rather than using his cane or leg.

Finally Maggie came racing in, her hair a damp sheath of curls, dressed in a rose colored tracksuit with a half eaten bagel stuck in her mouth. She hiked up her bag, waved to Dmitri, then hopped in line to check her things. Finally with her ticket and passport in one hand, the bagel in the other, she stopped to greet Dmitri.

“Sorry I’m late, my alarm didn’t go off! I hope ya weren’t waitin’ long?” She adjusted her tote bag on her shoulder, accidentally knocking Neven as she did so. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, casting him an apologetic look.

“Is all right.”

Maggie had been intending to take another bite of her bagel, but stopped with it halfway to her mouth, which was hanging open as her bright green eyes snapped up.

“Neven?”

“Yes?” He looked to Dmitri, who was trying his best not to laugh. He was failing. Miserably. 

“That’s really you!? YOU HAVE A FACE!” she shrieked, earning several confused glances from the airport staff and the few people waiting for flights. “I mean, of course you have a face, but it’s not being eaten by that gigantic beard!”

Still in obvious shock she reached out slowly and prodded his cheek. Neven kept his face neutral, one ruddy brow quirked, as she inspected him. He had finally used the razor, though before that he’d taken scissors to the bushy beard, trimming it as much as possible. After he’d shaved he’d made an appointment with Dmitri’s stylist, letting her chop away his long, wavy hair.

It had been odd to see his face again, to see the familiar shape of his jaw, square and strong, the tiny cleft in his chin, and high cheekbones. That morning he had taken care with his hair for the first time in a long time and combed it back, the much shorter waves falling against the nape of his neck. Over all he’d been pleased with the entire look, but right now with Maggie leaning in so close he could see the golden flecks in her eyes and smell her honeysuckle perfume, he thought he’d never been happier with a simple shave and haircut.

“I thought you’d look more like Dmitri, you both have the same eyes, but ya don’t. I don’t know who ya look like, but ya look good. Really good.” Her eyes were wide, still inspecting his face.

“Thank you?” he murmured, voice low and rumbling in his chest. Suddenly it seemed Maggie realized what it was she was doing, how close she was, and stepped back.

“Sorry, that was a bit rude, yeah? I'm… I was shocked.”

“Is all right.” Neven pushed away from the wall and offered her a reassuring smile, or at least he hoped it looked like one. “We go through security now?”

“Y-yeah!” Maggie nodded, following behind him, a bit dazed. Dmitri followed her, knuckles pressed to his lips as he fought to keep from laughing out loud.

After they made it through security, heading toward the concourse, Maggie rushed forward a bit to catch up with Neven. “Why did ya do it now?” she asked, slowing her pace to match his. “I mean why not when ya came back?”

“Is competition, I must be professional. I am coach.”

“Bah!” Dmitri snorted, coming even with them on Neven’s other side. “Lies. There will be many people there he know from before. He is embarrassed about his knee, he want to make good impression in other ways.”

“Dmitri?” Neven growled, “shut up.”

“Is truth! Do not lie to her!”

“Stop.” Neven gave Dmitri a long look, full of threats of violence when they were alone in their hotel room later. Dmitri took the hint and sped up, walking ahead of them to the gate.

“Don’t let it bother ya,” Maggie said softly. “I mean I know it must be hard, yeah? But ya shouldn’t let other people get to ya like that.”

“Is good. You don’t worry.” Neven lifted the corner of his mouth in a faint smile, her words brought him more comfort than he’d thought possible.

“I won’t… much.” She gave him a saucy wink and bumped her shoulder against his arm. “And for the record, I think you're very handsome!”

Maggie gave him a quick smile, then ducked her head. They were to their gate now, and she plopped down on one of the seats looking out on the runways. Her knee bobbing erratically, full of nervous energy.

Then Neven remembered something, and suddenly felt horrible. He sat down next to her, careful of his leg, and rested his cane between them.

“You… you are all right?” he ventured gently.

“Hmm?” She whipped her head around and focused on him, her eyes were not as bright as before, and slightly pinched at the corners. “Yeah… yeah. I’ll be fine. I just…. I don’t know. It’s okay. I flew with Gran once to Portugal for a vacation when I was younger. The flight was fine, but I haven’t been on one since.”

“It will be good, don’t worry.” She gave him a muttered thanks, and a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Soon the boarding call came and they rose, shuffling with the rest of the people onto the plane.

By luck or chance, Neven wasn’t sure which and he didn’t want to question it, they were seated together, with Dmitri across the aisle. He took the window seat at her request, and she stored his cane in the overhead for him. She settled into her seat, clicking the seat belt quickly and pulling it tight, and he could see her hands shake as she did so.

Neven debated for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek, then finally put out his hand, laying it on the armrests between them, palm up. “You can squeeze.”

Maggie looked at him in confusion, then giggled, the sound light and soft, and in harsh contrast to how she spoke half the time, but Neven was coming to learn that there were many layers to Miss Donovan; and that was something he could relate to. She shyly slipped her hand – which was soft and warm – into his, lacing her fingers with his, and smiled.

As the engines roared to life and the plane started rolling down the tarmac, she gripped his hand a little tighter, her knuckles going white. He squeezed back, reassuring her as best he could.

She gave him a strained smile and didn’t let go. She didn’t let go even after the plane was in the air, amidst a sea of clouds, the only noise the gentle whirr of the engines, not even when she fell asleep, her head lulling to rest against his shoulder.

 

***

 

“It will be fine, stop whining.”

“I’m _not_ whining!” Zander’s tone belied his words.

“They’re friends, I truly think if I let Sylvia attend one of your classes with Adelaide, it will do her good! Boost her confidence. Besides,” Edmond grinned and stepped a little closer to Zander. “You’re a much better teacher than I am.”

“Plying me with compliments will do you no good, mate.”

“Yes, it will.”

Zander eyed Edmond, lips puckered and drew in a deep breath on a hiss. “Fine!” he finally conceded. “French asshole.”

“Aussie bastard.”

“Come along!” Zander cried happily, jerking his head toward the practice room he used for class. Zander actually thought it was a good idea, given the problems Edmond seemed to be running into with Sylvia. The reason why he didn’t want it to happen was because he had a shit poker face. Ever since Adelaide had told him about Sylvia’s little fancy, Zander had been itching to tell his reserved young friend, but he’d promised not to. Damn him and his fool mouth anyway!

“So how did you know Adelaide was in my class?” Zander started busying himself, getting things ready for the class.

“Sylvia,” Edmond said, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah… and?” Zander prompted.

Edmond sighed huffily and rolled his eyes. “Sylvia spoke with Adelaide who told her the name of the studio, then Sylvia asked me if I knew anything about it, if it was good or not. I told her that was my studio, where I trained – she didn’t know because her father had arranged everything, of course. Sylvia got very excited and asked after the instructors here, I told her that at the moment it was mainly my friend, Zander. Anyway,” Edmond took a deep breath before continuing. “She thought it was funny, how it was all connected. Once I learned Adelaide was in your class, I thought having Sylvia come to one would be a great idea.”

When he finished Edmond looked expectantly at his friend, but Zander could only blink at him in disbelief.

“That was a lot of words, mate.”

“Yes…and?” Edmond furrowed his brows. “You wanted an explanation.”

“Nah, I mean that was a lot of words for _you_ , Mr. I-am-French-and-mysterious-and-don’t-speak-more-three-words-at-a-time.” Zander waved his hand, affecting a grand air, speaking in an extremely put on French accent. “Oui, oui, enchante, croissant, déjà vu, pirouette!”

Edmond frowned, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. “I loathe when you do that.”

“Well, buck up, my friend!” Zander clapped his hands together. “Because here come my students!”

The other man let out a breath slowly through his nose, massaging his temple, though Zander couldn't but notice his demeanor changed greatly the moment a vibrant young woman with honey blonde hair came bouncing up to him, Adelaide walking behind her at a more sedate pace.

“This will be so much fun!” Sylvia clapped. “I never get to do things like this. Do you know that I _lied_ to Daddy?” she whispered.

“Was that necessary?” Edmond frowned.

“He always insists on sending me with a chauffeur in the town car and it’s always such a show. So I had the chauffeur drop me round Adelaide’s then we took the Tube here! It was great fun!”

While Edmond did not seem entirely pleased she had lied to her father in such a way, Zander thought it utterly charming. He walked to the group and stopped by Adelaide’s side, arms folded behind his back.

“Miss Adelaide,” he said with a smile, inclining his head.

“Hello, Zander.” She flashed him a soft smile before gesturing to the bubbly blonde. “This is my friend, Sylvia.”

“Ah, Lady Sylvia, lovely to finally meet you!” Zander took her hand and bent over it, kissing it gently.

She giggled at the show. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Oh, yes.” He grinned as he straightened up, casting a quick glance toward Edmond. “My friend has spoken of you often.”

Adelaide coughed delicately, hand over her mouth, and used the motion as a cover to elbow Zander’s arm. He only smiled at Adelaide and turned his attention back to Sylvia, well aware of the glares he was receiving.

“Yes, I know there’s been some difficulty with the training.” He frowned a bit. “But honestly?” Zander leaned forward, hand shielding his mouth. “It’s really just because Edmond is a poor teacher! So you’ll be dancing with me today!”

Zander stepped back, bowed to Sylvia again, then held out his hand. Edmond seemed rather annoyed at Zander’s show, but he didn’t really care. He cast a glance at Adelaide, but her face was unreadable. Sylvia, though, was entirely pleased with everything and happily took his hand, allowing him to lead farther into the room. Soon the rest of the class had turned up, and the lesson began.

It went well enough, though Zander soon realized what the problem with Sylvia was. He’d heard of Edmond’s idea to teach her some Latin, to loosen her up, but she still over thought everything except her footwork.

“You’re not grounded enough.” Zander danced them closer to the mirrors, nodding toward them. “You’re thinking, 'I must be light and graceful', correct?”

“Which I fail at miserably,” Sylvia sighed.

“No, it’s not that. You’re dancing upward, with your head.” Zander stepped back and tapped her forehead. “You need to dance downward, use your feet and legs, remember your center.” He tapped his sternum. “Right now all your focus is on being as light as possible, but your footwork isn’t sure or firm, and you don't use your legs enough. Dance is about connecting with the floor, not trying to reach for the ceiling.”

“All right,” Sylvia nodded slowly, chewing on her lip.

“Edmond!” Zander waved his friend over.

“Yes?” he asked, stopping at Zander’s side with Adelaide in tow.

“Teach Sylvia a Rumba.”

“I’m sorry?” Edmond squawked.

“The Rumba will do her good, I know you wanted the Cha Cha to loosen up, but she needs to be more grounded. The Rumba will help with that, less rise and fall, it will keep her connected to the floor.” He tapped the toe of his shoe against the wooden planks for emphasis.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Zander scrunched his face. “Come here. Let's show her.”

Edmond rolled his eyes, but obeyed. The pair of them did one section of a traditional Rumba, Zander leading and Edmond begrudgingly following along. Zander spoke as they worked through the routine, explaining to Sylvia and Adelaide – completely ignoring his class.

“Your hips are atrocious,” Zander commented when they finished.

“Normally I lead.” Edmond rolled his eyes.

“It’s all right, you still did good.” He reached out and pinched Edmond’s cheek, then slapped it playfully. “You just need a pretty gown.”

Not waiting for Edmond’s reply or glare or whatever he might do, Zander whirled around to Sylvia and smiled. “Do you see?”

“I think so?”

“Well, why don’t you and Edmond work on that together for the remainder of class? Adelaide, work on the promenade. I’ll go check on my class.”

The second half of class seemed to drag on for Zander, it was so boring correcting footwork and holds and posture… didn’t they ever learn? Finally, though, it drew to a close and he begrudgingly told everyone what a good job they had done, and that he would happily see them all next week. After the students had filed out he found Edmond, Sylvia and Adelaide in the corner.

“Zander I’ve decided something!” Sylvia cried when he reached her side.

“What’s that!?” Zander asked just as excitedly.

“I wish you to attend my party. I think it would be so much fun! There will be so many people there, and that way Edmond can have a friend, and Adelaide will have someone she knows – she is frightfully shy, you know?”

“Sylvia!” Adelaide hissed.

“It’s true! Don’t pretend it’s not. Besides, it’s not like it’s a bad thing.” Sylvia shook her head then turned back to Zander. “Please say you’ll come? It will be so much fun to have another professional there, and you are so handsome, it will cause quite a stir, I’m sure!”

Zander knew it was a terrible idea to go. He would probably end up circling the dance floor with haughty young ladies all night, not to mention he would be forced to watch Adelaide undoubtedly make an impression on her beau. However, Sylvia’s eyes were so large and pleading he wondered how anyone could deny her anything.

“I would love to!”

“Oh good!” Sylvia bobbed in place, clapping happily. Edmond seemed less enthusiastic, and again, Adelaide was unreadable.


	16. Chapter 16

The Monday after the Open in Verona had Dmitri, Maggie and Neven shuffling into the studio, all exhausted after a long weekend full of performing and traveling. They all greeted Kam, waving wearily.

“How did it go?” Kam asked, lips pursed.

“All right.” Dmitri nodded, stretching his arms over his head and yawning loudly.

“Well, a touch more than ‘all right’,” Maggie said, a smile starting to spread across her face. She withdrew a trophy from behind her back. “I was fookin’ brilliant, I was!” She nonchalantly blew on her fingers, buffing them on her shirt.

“She was,” Neven commented, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “Dmitri was good, too.”

“Thank you, brother.” Dmitri took the trophy from Maggie, pointing at the plate. “See my name here? Is before yours, it means I am better!”

Maggie snorted loudly, swatting playfully at Dmitri’s arm. “Ya wish!”

Neven clapped his hands to get their attention. “Children, stop playing around.”

“Fine, fine. We get back to practice. But first this must go on trophy wall!” Dmitri held the cup up with one hand, eyes bright.

“Yeah, I cleaned it up so there's a spot for it.” Kam nodded.

“Next we take Blackpool!” Dmitri cried happily, moving to the side wall where the various trophies and ribbons were located.

He tucked the second place trophy next to one of Edmond’s junior trophies and whirled around, grabbing Maggie around the waist. Laughing and cheering, they did a mock tango down the hall to their practice room.

“Well, they seem in good spirits.” Kam grinned and turned on Neven. “So do you. It’s nice to see you looking like a human again rather than a wild animal.”

“I thought it time.” He shrugged, rubbing his jaw.

“Good.“ Kam nodded. “You seem happier, and that’s really good.”

“I think I am. I thought it would be difficult to be at competition again, but it remind me why I love it. The feel, the excitement. I could enjoy it. And I am proud of them.”

“You should be.” Kam clapped Neven on the shoulder. “They’ve done well, and so have you.”

“We still have far to go, but the end is in sight.”

“Do you think placing at Blackpool is possible?”

“I do, they work hard. They have talent and drive. I hope they can.”

“It would be bang up if they could, the things that could do. For them, for the studio.” Kam sighed, a little wistful.

“I think life is changing, good change. Now I must go to wrangle children,” Neven laughed lightly. He took a step, but placed his weight wrong and his knee buckled. Luckily Kam acted quickly and caught the burly man by the shoulders, just managing to keep him upright before he crashed to the floor.

Neven straightened, weight on his good leg and cane, eyes wide and breathing heavy from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

Kam eyed him worriedly for a moment before speaking. “Do you want to sit down?”

In the past Neven would’ve been angry. Angry him at himself, at his knee, at showing any weakness, and probably angry at Kam for having witnessed it. Now, instead, he was resigned, it was his lot in life now, and there was little he could do to control it.

“Is good, I step wrong. I… I forgot for a moment. I was happy, the pain was dull, no worse than from heavy workout, and I forgot.” He sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Look, Neven,” Kam hesitated then took a deep breath. “I know before you were in a bad place, and things seemed bleak. But have you thought now about going to another doctor? One here in London? They might able to do something, make it more bearable. Maybe take some of the pain away?”

“No,” Neven shook his head. “This is penance for being stupid. I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t.”

Neven only shook his head again and started toward the practice rooms, walking carefully and ignoring Kam.

 

***

Edmond stood in front of Sylvia, a bundle of nervous energy, right hand drumming erratically against his leg. The ballroom was slightly changed, there were now more full length mirrors in a line against the wall. They had been brought in from various places around the manor at Sylvia’s suggestion.

He had a routine in his head, something simple to learn, but full of the mechanics that should help Sylvia to be more grounded – like Zander had said.

It was just awkward.

Extremely, terribly, horribly so.

Which was rather silly, he’d danced the rumba before, with several partners – hell he’d danced it in junior competitions as a young teen, and he had no qualms demonstrating with Zander. So why was the idea of dancing a rumba with Sylvia so nerve-wracking?

Or even explaining it.

“So, the, uh, rumba. It is, well, the waltz can be romantic, yes? But the rumba is more about the physicality of love, rather than the emotional.”

“Oh,” Sylvia murmured, looking at the floor rather than his face.

“Zander is right though, it will help ground you. So we’ll work on the separate steps, not the partnering.” He nodded and let out a breath of air.

“All right.”

“So, uh, face the mirrors.” Edmond swallowed thickly, it should not be this difficult. He was a professional, this was his job. “Now you will make the movements with your hips, use your upper legs and knees, keep your feet on the floor.”

He showed her a small chain of movements, and Sylvia did her best to copy them, but it was still rough.

Edmond rubbed the back of his neck, knowing full well what he needed to do would be the worst part by far. He took a fortifying breath, and did his best to affect a nonchalant air. This would be business. It _was_ business.

Stepping behind Sylvia, he caught her eye in the mirror. “You need to relax, you’re too stiff. It makes the movements jerky, you must be smooth. May I?” She nodded at his reflection dumbly, eyes wide.

Edmond placed his hands on her hips, guiding her through the movement, smoothing it out. He kept his hands there through the entire pattern, softly giving her instructions. They carried through for a few walking steps, Edmond shadowing Sylvia, and Sylvia doing her best to keep her footing firm and her hips loose.

They stopped at the final mirror in the row, and Edmond smiled gently at her reflection, his head bent over her shoulder, cheek nearly brushing hers. “Very good, Sylvia.”

She beamed and turned to her face to look at him rather his reflection. “You really think so?”

Edmond turned his head as well, their faces inches apart. “I do.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Sylvia’s torso turned so she could look at him, and Edmond’s hands still on her hips. He found himself really looking at Sylvia’s eyes, the shape of them and how perfectly round them seemed, the color which matched the robin eggs in the nest outside the ballroom window. And he dazedly noticed how lost he got in them.

He had long ago given up trying to figure Sylvia out, she was at once a very proper young lady, full of all the etiquette lessons and rules propriety any young woman of high society should be, but she always seemed to throw all that out the window whenever she pleased.

Edmond thought she could have easily been like a hundred other young women, but she wasn’t. She was wholly herself. She was childlike but in the most refreshing and engaging way possible: she took joy in the smallest things, she appreciated the silliest things, and she cared.

Sylvia cared for people and animals and plants and places. She cared about stories and music and dancing and art. She cared with her whole heart. She also tried her hardest, she pouted and she whined, but she still kept at it, determined and steadfast, and maybe a bit stubborn.

While he knew all these things, knew her, there always seemed to be something else that came up, something new to learn.

In that moment Sylvia shifted ever so slightly, her back brushing his arm, and licked her lips, bringing them fully to Edmond’s attention. He tried to keep his eyes on hers, but found it impossible not to look at her mouth.

Then the idea of kissing her came to the forefront of his thoughts. They were so close, just inches away, all he would have to do is lean forward, only the tiniest bit, and kiss her. But that would be wrong. So wrong, for so many reasons.

With a shuddering sigh Edmond let go of her hips and stepped back. He kept moving until there was several feet between them. He ran a hand through his hair and tried not to blush because of his thoughts.

“That was very good, Sylvia,” he said shakily. “Why don’t you run through it a few more times? Get a feel for the movements, then we’ll try the waltz again.”

“Okay.” She nodded once, the movement barely noticeable, and turned her attention back to the mirrors and the rumba pattern. Edmond watched her, only half paying attention to the form.

What a fool he was.


	17. Chapter 17

In just a little over a month, a mere five weeks, it would be time for Blackpool. In a way it seemed too soon, in another it seemed like an eternity. Jaden and Ramona had been practicing every chance they could get, nearly every waking moment of every day, and it was starting to take its toll. It wasn’t the work he minded, sure he was tired and sore and sick of listening to the coach’s critiques, but it was more the fact he had little reprieve from Ramona.

It wasn’t the arguing or the sniping. It wasn’t the unspoken competition of who could last longer in a day without complaint. It was the fact that he was constantly reminded of touring the circuit two years ago.

He was reminded of the friendship that had developed naturally, even though they weren’t partnered together. He was reminded of competing against her and Zander in Latin, playing pranks with Neven and Dmitri, and teasing Kam for always being a stick in the mud. Life had seemed much simpler then. Now it was a convoluted mess, everyone was different, and Ramona all but hated him.

“You’re not even paying attention to me anymore!” Ramona huffed, dropping his hands and stepping back. It was late, the studio quiet as her group of cronies had all left for the day, and they were working on their rumba.

It shouldn’t have been a problem, but it had slowly started to become one. In the end Jaden shut off his brain and went through the motions, though it appeared even that didn’t work because now she was angry.

“I’m tired, maybe we should call it a night?” He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“What’s wrong with you?” she snapped, hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry?”

“Something is obviously wrong, your mind has been elsewhere all day and now you’re completely lost in your thoughts. I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes.”

“Well maybe if someone wasn’t running me ragged with this endless practice, I might actually get some rest and then be able to concentrate.” Jaden wasn’t sure why he was snapping back. It wasn’t exactly Ramona’s fault they were training constantly, he'd agreed with the idea, thought it necessary.

“You think I’m having fun?” She let out a breath through her nose. “I’m exhausted. My feet are killing me, I don’t even remember what it feels like not to be sore. This is work though, Jaden. This is passion and work, and we must do well!”

“I know that for Chrissake! I’m not some frivolous idiot, you know?”

She looked down, slightly taken aback, but then she puffed out her chest and met his gaze straight on. “I know that, but sometimes I have to wonder how seriously you take anything.”

Jaden laughed softly, a little bitter, and shook his head. “I take things a lot more seriously than you give me credit for.”

“Is that so?” she scoffed, one brow arched.

“Yeah, it is! I care and I have feelings, and you harping on me every second of every day can take a toll!”

“Great, you actually have a heart! Did I bruise it? Well, I have feelings, too. Not that you give a damn about them…. or me.” Her arms were crossed defensively, and suddenly he realized they weren’t talking about practice or dance any longer.

“Bullshit, Ramona!” Jaden yelled. He was slow to anger, in fact he couldn’t remember the last time he had been seriously upset beyond wanting to smack Zander for being a pisspot. But he was angry now, boiling over until he was left with no choice but to explode. “I care, I always have. That was the entire problem, I care _too_ damned much! You were the one who was thoughtless.”

He barely looked her in the eye before he whirled on his heel and stormed out of the room, making sure to slam the door with enough force to rattle it on its hinges. He marched into the main room, Zander and Kam were still there, cleaning things up. Jaden thought Kam said something to him, but he was too angry to pay him any mind.

Instead he stomped out the front door into the cool, dark night, walking toward home without his jacket or keys, his ire giving him purpose. Once he realized he’d left all of his things at the studio, he marched from his flat to Kam’s, pounding on the door until his elder brother answered.

“Studio keys,” he said in way of greeting, holding out a hand.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No. Keys.”

Kam frowned, scrutinizing Jaden with cool eyes, then sighed and grabbed the spare set he kept in the end-table by the door. He slowly extended his hand, holding the keys over Jaden’s open palm. Before he dropped them, he caught Jaden’s eye. “I could drive you, if you like?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Do you want a jacket? It’s a bit chilly tonight.”

“Nah.” Jaden shook his head slowly. “Keys.”

“Okay.” Kam sat them in his palm gently, and Jaden’s fingers curled around them into a tight fist. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, g’night.” He whirled around, not giving Kam another look. The walk back to the studio for his things was slower and colder than before.

 

***

 

“Zander?” Turning slowly from watching the class file out, saying his goodbyes, he found Adelaide standing timidly behind him.

“Yeah? Is something the matter?” He tilted his head.

“No, it’s not that.” She glanced down and stalled for a moment, waiting for the last person to leave the room. Once they were alone, she looked up to meet his eyes again, wringing her hands absently. “After our conversation at the record store, I was wondering if you might like to attend a concert with me?”

Zander blinked in confusion. Never would he have imagined Miss Adelaide asking him out. Not that she really was, of course, she had a bloke she liked already. But the idea was the same, friendly or romantic, and she was obviously nervous. It was rather sweet.

“It’s a charity concert, you see. I’ve gone before in years past, and it’s always been lovely. I thought you might like to come with me? It’s this Friday night with a collection of musicians, mainly classical.” She paused for a breath then rushed on before he could even reply. “I know this is very short notice, so if you already have plans, I understand. It is a Friday night after all, you probably have a date or something.” She waved a hand, giggling nervously.

“No, I don’t,” he said slowly, giving her a gentle smile. “I would like that very much.”

“You would?” Adelaide’s head snapped up and she smiled, it was small, but happier than he had ever seen and seemed to reach her eyes.

He nodded, a few stray curls falling into his eyes, and he brushed them back. “Yeah, it sounds like a nice time.”

“I’m glad you think so! It’s Friday at the Mariner Playhouse. Everything starts at seven.”

“All right,” Zander nodded again. He felt pleased that she was happy, then reminded himself it was only a friendly outing. Nothing more. “Do I need to wear anything special?”

“No, it’s nothing overly fancy. You just need to dress nicely, but you always do.” Suddenly she was flustered, more so than before, and Zander grinned. She was adorable.

“Shall I meet you there, a little before seven then?” he asked when silence descended upon them.

“Yes,” she nodded firmly. “That would be perfect. Just out front.”

“Right, I’ll see you Friday.” Zander grinned, and she blushed before grabbing her things quickly and leaving.

Zander had had his fun teasing her, and he would be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of such attentions as she was paying him, but after she left, the full understanding of everything hit him. As he straightened up the practice room before his next class, the weight of what he had agreed to settled on his shoulders, and he realized just how torturous it would be.


	18. Chapter 18

Kam had a headache and teaching a tap class was doing very little to alleviate it. As the students, all the older kids, worked through their transitions he stole a moment to down a sip of coffee from his thermos. As he set it down, he surveyed the students, pleased with how far they’d come under Zander’s tutelage.

The front door opened, letting in a burst of cool air, and he turned, shocked to find Mina walking into the studio. She had a bag over her shoulder and was dressed in training clothes. She waved and smiled.

“What are you doing here? It’s your day off, shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked as she stopped at his side.

“I don’t care, I want everything perfect for Blackpool. The only way to ensure that is by practicing all I can.” She nodded and shifted the bag on her shoulder. “I tried to talk Anton into it, but he refused. I figure I can at least work on memorizing the choreography, even without my lazy partner.”

Kam chuckled at that. Ever since he had declared their debut at Blackpool, Mina had been working non-stop. She proved to be more dedicated and hardworking than he had ever imagined, and he found it hard not to respect her.

“That’s very admirable, Mina,” he nodded and caught her eye, “but you do need to rest. You can’t injure yourself.”

“It’s fine, I rest at night.” She grinned and turned to look at the class. “You’re teaching today?”

“I am. We’ve been, uh, short staffed lately. My youngest brother, Zander, has been my main instructor, but even he needs days off.” He shrugged, scratched the side of his face and tried not to yawn. “Andy, chin up, don’t hunch your shoulders,” he called to one of the children.

Mina frowned and look Kam up and down, eyes narrowed. “What about you? Isn’t today supposed to be _your_ day off too? You want everyone else to rest but you won’t do it yourself, that’s a very poor example to set.”

Kam laughed again. “Things are hectic right now, I’ll get some rest one of these days. Perhaps when I’m dead?” He smiled and gave Mina a quick wink.

“Mmhmm,” she mumbled, lips twitching, on the verge of a giggle.

“All right class, that’s it for today. You’ve all done wonderfully! I’m very proud of you.” Kam clapped his hands and the students started to rowdily get their things, or change shoes. He spoke to each child, giving them each a bit of advice and words of encouragement, well aware that Mina was watching him closely. There was chaos for a while as parents arrived and kids left, but eventually things died down until it was just Kam and Mina.

Kam retrieved his coffee again, draining it even though it was now cold. He noticed Mina had still not yet gone back to the practice room.

“How long will you be here? I have another class in twenty minutes, should be about an hour,” he explained. “After that I’ll be happy to stand in for Anton if you like?”

“What class is next?”

“Tap again, first years. I get to watch over a bunch of six year olds making noise with their shoes.” Just the thought made his head throb even more.

“I’ll help!” she said, setting down her bag. “There’s no way you’re going to make it through an entire class like that, old man.”

“I have experience, it’ll be fine,” Kam scoffed.

Mina crossed her arms, challenging, but eyes playful. “Is that so?”

“I practically raised my brothers, if I can handle them, I can handle anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m nine years older than my brother Jaden, and twelve years older than Zander. They were both hellions growing up... still are, actually.” Kam sat down on one of the chairs in the corner, and motioned for Mina to do the same while they waited.

Mina plopped down on the chair and crossed her legs. “That’s quite a gap.”

“It is, I was competing in Junior trials before Jaden could even walk. By the time Zander started learning dance I was already at the adult level.” Kam stretched out his legs, one eye squinted. “He’s what? Twenty-three now? I still think he should be in diapers.”

“You’re eleven years older than I am,” Mina said, and Kam wasn’t sure if it was a question, a statement or an accusation.

“I am,” he confirmed. “Which just goes to proves you are a baby.”

“I am not a child. I am a grown woman.” She sat up straighter in her chair, shoulders back and neck long.

“Don’t take it personally, everyone is a child when you’re an old man,” he teased, though he was well aware of the fact that Mina was not a child. A little too aware. He glanced at the clock, realized it was nearly time for students to start arriving, and rose slowly from his chair.

“You’re tired.” Mina frowned.

“A bit, have a headache, too, but I’ll live.”

“I’m staying to help.” She rose with him, determined.

“No, you came in for practice, you shouldn’t miss out because of me.”

“I want to,” she said. “But I’ll make you a deal? This class is the last for the day?” He nodded. “Well, then I’ll help with it, then you can stand in through one practice Foxtrot with me. Sound like a deal?” She held out her hand.

“Fair enough.” Kam smothered a smile and shook her hand, sealing the deal.

 

***

 

The second class turned out to be a lot more enjoyable than Kam would’ve thought. His headache slowly subsided, and Mina was a natural with the children. They were all quite happy to have her helping for the day, and by the end of class half the children were either in love with her or wanted to be her.

“Mister Kam?” He looked down at the small pixie of a child – Angela Green – and smiled. Kam knelt down next to her.

“Yes?”

“Is Miss Mina going to teach us next week, too? She’s so pretty and nice.” The child fiddled with the hem of her shirt, all big brown eyes and curly hair.

“I’m not sure, Angie. I hope she might be back.”

“Me too!” She stopped and then held out one foot. “Mister Kam? Will you help me unbuckle my shoes?”

“Always, dear.” Kam gave her a gentle smile, unbuckled one tap shoe and pulled it off while she leaned against his shoulder, then helped with the other.

She gave him a bright smile, revealing two missing front teeth and took her shoes. “Thank you, Mister Kam!” she cried before racing over to her mother.

“I think she has a crush.”

Kam looked up at Mina, still kneeling on the floor. “She’s a sweet girl.” He smiled and stood up. “The whole family is lovely, her older brother is in the ballroom class. Next year he’ll be old enough to compete.”

“Will you coach him?”

“I might, if things work out.” Kam shrugged and moved to say goodbye to the parents and children, seeing them all out the door. He locked it and turned back to Mina. “We’ll go to the regular practice room, I think.”

“Sounds good.” Mina shouldered her bag and followed Kam down to the hall to the private rooms. As promised Kam and Mina worked through the choreography for the foxtrot routine, and when Mina was satisfied she had gotten enough practice in, they called it a day.

“I know it’s a bit early in the day, but what do you say to some dinner? I’m sure you’re starving.”

“Dinner?” Mina looked up from tying her tennis shoe.

“Yes, it can be my thank you for helping out today.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Mina bounced up from her chair, gave him a bright smile, then turned to stuff her things into her bag.

“But I have one condition,” she said when she had everything packed up.

“What’s that?”

“You’ll actually converse with me, no stoic, grumpy quiet crap. I want dinner conversation.”

“I promise to do my best.” Kam laughed and bowed to her, mocking.

 

***

“Favourite movie?” Mina asked, adding a healthy amount of butter to her mashed potatoes. The place Kam had chosen to eat wasn’t too far from the studio, and while it wasn’t the fanciest place, it served delicious food.

Mina looked up at Kam and grinned. “And I don’t mean the one you tell everyone, but your real one.”

“How do you mean?” Kam frowned before taking a sip of beer.

“Everyone has two favourite movies,” she said as if that was common knowledge. “The one you tell everyone, which is the decoy film, the one that makes you seem like you have better taste than you do. It’s usually some classic or critically acclaimed something or another. For instance, mine is Casablanca.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Nor should it.” She kicked him playfully under the table. “Now what’s yours?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “I guess I’ve never given it much thought. I would probably tell people it’s The Untouchables--”

“Of course, boys and their gangster movies.” She rolled her eyes and stuck a finger in her mouth, “blah.”

“At least I’m not a sad romantic.”

“That’s my decoy! I want people to think I’m a sad romantic. Now what’s the real one?”

“Well.” He stretched out the word, took a sip of his beer and then met her eyes over the rim of the glass. “The movie I’ve seen more than any other, the one I can quote forwards and backwards is, uh, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Followed closely by Life of Brian and The Meaning of Life.”

He laughed when Mina could only stare at him, leaning forward slightly. “You’re in danger of getting mash in your hair.” He nodded toward her ponytail, which was spilling over her shoulder, hanging closely to her plate.

“Huh? Oh!” She sat up straight and whipped her hair back over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Python fan.”

“I used to watch the show and movies with my Granddad, back when Jaden was running around in diapers.”

“Well, it’s kinda funny, because it’s my favourite too.” Mina giggled. “When I toured for Junior Championships in the States I could always find reruns of the show in hotels, it was like a weird super power. I must confess when I was on the plane to London I watched Holy Grail and The Meaning of Life.”

“I did the same thing when I flew out here.”

“In that case I must also confess when I started going out to restaurants here I kept waiting for a waiter to offer me a ’thin wafer mint.’”

Despite himself, Kam laughed. “Any success yet?”

“Nope! But the place I had dinner my first night in London? It was this big fancy place Anton took me to, I think he was trying to impress me.”

“How did that work out for him?”

“Not very well, but I ordered lobster and Dom Perignon, so it worked out well for me!” Mina giggled. “Normally I would never do such a thing, but he’s such a pompous ass sometimes it’s hard not to. _Anyway!_ ” she stressed before continuing. “The Maitre’D looked a bit like a young John Cleese, but just a bit. So when we were leaving I gave into the most childish of whims.”

“Did you offer him a wafer?” Kam arched an eyebrow.

“Oh no!” Mina shook her head, eyes closed, lips twitching. “I reenacted the Ministry of Silly Walks, right behind him, all the way to the door.” She paused. “Did I mention we had been seated in the back of the restaurant?”

Kam bent his head, lips pressed together to keep from laughing loudly, shoulders shaking. “You didn’t,” he managed after a moment.

“I did!” Mina said proudly.

“How did that go over? Was Anton amused?”

She stopped and thought for a moment, finger tapping her chin. “I think mortified is a better word for it. Also I don’t think I’m ever allowed back in that restaurant.”

“I’d imagine not.” Kam shook his head, still laughing. As they calmed down they turned their attention back to their meals, falling to a comfortable silence. Though Mina broke it after a few minutes had ticked by.

“Kam? Can I ask you something more serious?”

He looked up, brows furrowed slightly as he studied her. She returned his gaze, steadfast and eyes bright. He supposed there wouldn’t be any harm in that. “Sure?”

“Why did you retire from dance? You’re so good, you could’ve been a top tier champion had you wanted. Why give that up?”

“I never wanted it. I mean, I was always competitive and always did my best, but I didn’t want that. It was all about who was better, not about the dance itself. I learned dance from my grandparents, they had their own studio, and I liked that. I wanted that. So I opened my own.”

He paused. “The Elysian isn’t perfect, I know it’s not, but you see all those kids learning and having fun. That’s why I do it. Dance is an amazing thing whether you’re competing or work at it professionally or you’re just an amateur doing it for fun. It can do a lot for people, and I think it’s best to share that.”

“That’s lovely, Kam.”

He smiled and they finished their meal. When the waiter came to retrieve their dishes Kam ordered dessert – the special of the night, a chocolate lava cake – as a treat for ‘good behaviour.’

“All right, now for the really important question.” Mina placed her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers and resting her chin on top. “Why are all the handsome Ryan brothers single?”

“How are you so sure we’re all single?” Kam tried to reply coolly, but in truth he was already getting embarrassed.

“I think we’ve established that I do my homework, and I do it well.”

“Fair enough.” Kam inclined his head, and took a moment to collect his thoughts by finishing his beer. “Zander is a flirt, though he’s been very quiet lately in that regard. I suppose he just needs to find someone who can keep his interest? Jaden…. I don’t know about Jaden. I almost thought there was something between him and his last partner, Aditi, but she ended up moving to New York.” He shrugged. “I think in the end, Jaden still isn’t over a particular someone.”

“Who is that?”

“Why are you so curious?”

Mina pointed at herself. “Sad romantic, remember?”

“Ah, right.” Kam chuckled. “It’s not my story to tell… he hasn’t even told it. I just know what I’ve gleaned from things.”

“Sounds sad.” Mina seemed to deflate a bit, a pout forming on her full lips. She shook herself slightly and looked up to meet Kam’s eyes again. “And what about you?”

“I’m just a confirmed bachelor.” He grinned.

“Is that right?”

“A bit.”

“What’s the story?” Mina leaned forward further, but had to sit back again when the waiter returned with their dessert. They paused for a moment to enjoy a bit of the rich cake, watching as the melted chocolate inside flowed out onto the plate, melting the whipped cream on top.

Finally Kam sighed, resigned to telling her the story. “I had a partner, we’d danced together for years, and I fancied myself in love with her. She didn’t return the feelings though.”

“Did you tell her how you felt?”

“I did, she found it rather funny, laughed in my face.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, it stung a bit.” Kam took another bite of the cake, refusing to meet Mina’s eyes. “Stung enough for me to leave Australia. I was born and raised in Brisbane, but by then I had moved to Sydney, it afforded better opportunities, but she was well known in the dance world, and I’d become a bit of a joke because of her.”

“What a cow.” Mina frowned, viciously jabbing the cake with her fork.

“I suppose it worked out for the best, London has been good.” He met her eyes then and smiled.

“Well of course! If you hadn’t moved here, you wouldn’t now be on a date with a beautiful blonde. I would say that is definitely a good thing.”

“So would I. Last bite is yours.” He jerked his chin toward the cake.

“Such a gentleman!” Mina took the last bite, swirling the cake around on the plate to get the last of the melted fudge, and popped it in her mouth, closing her eyes in bliss. “Thank for you this, Kam. It’s been lovely.”

“Of course, I had a good time as well.” Kam nodded a thanks to the waiter when he placed their bill on the table, two wafer mints sitting on top.

They stared for a moment, dumbfounded, then Kam caught Mina’s eyes and they both burst into riotous laughter.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this has some descriptions of violence, but you finally learn about Neven's knee.

Zander wasn’t ever one to be nervous. However, pacing out front of the Mariner Playhouse he was full of restlessness and unease and thought he might crawl out of his skin. He’d dressed nicely, in black slacks and dress shoes with a crisp black button up; the shirt was made just a hair bit too tight, fitted, and was left un-tucked, accenting his lean waist and long arms. The only bit of colour came from a thin green tie the same colour as his eyes.

Right now he hated it all, and yanked at the collar of his shirt, trying to loosen the tie that felt too much like a noose.

He turned around to continue his pacing and found Adelaide coming up the steps. She waved and smiled, and he had an urge to undo all the meticulous work he’d put into his hair that day by raking it over his face and smothering himself with the thick curls.

She wore a solid navy blue dress that billowed down to her knees from a cinched waist. The neckline was high, covering her chest and most of her long neck, but the garment was sleeveless, revealing toned arms and creamy skin. She held a small clutch tightly in one hand as she jogged up the steps, her ballet flats seeming to barely touch the ground as she moved.

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late, the tram was delayed.” She stopped by his side, slightly breathless from her exertion, cheeks a healthy pink.

Zander pulled on his tie again, trying to loosen it even more. “It’s fine,” he managed past the lump in his throat. Really he had been a fool to agree to this, and figured the fact she looked so beautiful was a fine punishment.

Or something like that. He just really wanted to smother himself with a pillow and never think about Adelaide’s ivory skin ever again.

“Shall we?” She smiled, eyes glittering like sapphires, and held out an elbow to him. Zander took a deep breath, and returned her smile. He gently took her arm and laced it through his.

They walked up the last few steps to the main floor of the playhouse. Inside it was wide and open with a ticket stand and waiting area. On either side of the room were flights of stairs leading to the balcony seats, beyond the ticket stand were large doors leading to the floor seats.

Adelaide dug their tickets out from her bag and handed them to the usher. He directed them up the stairs, and to the left. They moved on past people milling around before the show, as they came to the stairs Adelaide hesitated and tried to turn them around quickly.

“What is it?”

“I think I’ll just use the loo before the show starts,” she mumbled, trying to her free her arm from his.

“Adelaide?” A shadow fell over them, standing on the steps above them.

“I didn’t know he would be here,” she hissed to Zander before turning around to face the young man who'd spoken. Zander found a polished young man standing there, he had mousy brown hair and a pleasant face, and Zander felt his stomach drop.

“Gregory, I didn’t know you would be here.” Adelaide kept her grip on Zander’s arm, perhaps a little tighter than before. Of course that made sense, she was nervous.

“Last minute whim.” He smiled at her gently and descended the steps. Once he was even with them he offered Adelaide a small bow with a smile. “It’s good to see, it’s been a while. You look wonderful.”

“Oh, thank you.” Adelaide bent her head, cheeks pink.

“Gregory is it? I’m Zander, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, trying to affect a pleasant air.

“Oh, well met.” Gregory took his hand, shaking it firmly. “You’re Australian? How do you two know each other?”

“Through Sylvia!” Adelaide cut in quickly, before Zander could even open his mouth. “You know her dance instructor? For the party? He’s friends with Zander.”

“Ah, I see. I had heard uncle talking about that, Sylvia and her fancies.” He shook his head and turned to Zander. “And you dance as well?”

“Yeah.” Zander nodded. “Co-own a studio with my brothers.”

“How interesting.” Gregory gave Zander a quick once over then turned his attention back to Adelaide. “Well, I should let you two get seated. I was just speaking with some friends up there; I’m down on the floor.

He stepped a bit closer to Adelaide, gently placing his hand on her upper arm. “It was very good to see you. I hope you’ll be at my cousin’s party? Perhaps we can talk more then, hm?”

“Mm, of course.” Adelaide nodded. “I wouldn’t miss Sylvia’s debut for the world. So you’ll see me there.”

“Good. Enjoy the show!” He gave her one last smile and moved on, ignoring Zander completely.

“You’ll see me, too,” Zander mumbled to himself, face sour.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. So that’s him? Seems a nice enough bloke.” Zander grinned at Adelaide and patted her hand.

“I suppose. Come on, we shouldn’t be late.” She started pulling him up the steps, her face closed and unreadable. Zander wondered if he had done something wrong. But of course, he realized as they took their seats, Adelaide fidgeting with her purse and the hem of her dress, she was probably worried Gregory had thought them on a date.

“Hey,” he whispered and touched her arm. “Don’t worry about Gregory, yeah? If he thought we were on a date that might be good, get him a little jealous? Besides he seemed to notice how nice you look, I think you impressed him.”

“I wasn’t trying to impress _him_ though,” Adelaide muttered. Zander had no time to respond as the music started. As he settled in his seat he thought he must’ve heard wrong. Yes, that was it. He had clearly heard her wrong. She had _not_ gotten dressed up for _him_.

 

***

 

Neven kept his eyes on the front door of the restaurant, willing his brother to walk through it, but it didn’t seem to be working. He was aware of Maggie shifting next to him, the plush cushions of the booth sinking slightly as she moved.

“Maybe ya should ring him? He’s never late.”

Neven nodded and pulled his mobile from his pocket, pressing the speed dial. It took several rings, nearly going to voicemail, before his brother answered, sounding rather pathetic.

“Where are you, Dmitri?” Neven asked, switching to Ukrainian.

“ _I’ve got a migraine. I took a shower after running errands, thinking it would help, but now I just want to wallow in the dark._ ”

“Should we postpone the celebratory dinner? It was your idea after all.”

“ _No, no! You two have fun, it took forever to get the reservation. Enjoy it._ ”

“If you’re sure…?”

“ _I am, please have fun for me. I’ll talk to you when you get home._ ” Without waiting for reply Dmitri hung up. Neven frowned at the phone and put it back in his jacket pocket.

“He has migraine headache, he wants us to enjoy dinner for him. He did work hard to get us reservations here.”

“Oh, poor thing.” Maggie frowned. “I’m sure he did work for it, and I have a feeling that hostess will miss him sorely.” She giggled, nodding toward the pretty young woman at the front of the restaurant. “Has Dmitri always been such a flirt?”

Neven snorted. “Always. When we were young and train in our mother’s studio, all the girls wanted to dance with Dmitri. Only Dmitri.”

“Aw, I’m sure they wanted to dance with you, too. I would’ve.”

“No, I was always grumpy. Dmitri he is… he ooze charm.”

“I’ve heard some stories though, about you.”

“From Jaden?” Neven quirked a brow and Maggie giggled.

“Yeah, from Jaden.” She shifted a bit closer to him and bumped his shoulder. “He told me about all the fun while on the circuit. The pranks and things… also mentioned girls here and there. I bet ya were plenty charming.”

“What does Jaden know? We were drinking partners, he is a sloppy drunk.”

Maggie covered her mouth with a hand, laughing. “Can’t hold his liquor?”

“He do fine, but I drink him under the table. Always.”

“Were ya drinking voodka?” Maggie lowered her voice. “Like a typical Eastern European?”

“Vodka is good, but bourbon is better.”

“What’d’ya say to a little contest?” Maggie smirked at him, chin balanced on her palm. Her thick auburn hair – normally gentle waves – had been curled for the night, spilling over her shoulder in a cascade of ringlets. The sequined green top she wore shimmered in the candlelight, glittering and changing colours like her eyes, shifting from emerald to forest to a dark, mossy color.

“You think you can out drink me?”

“Don’t think so,” she shook her head, “know so.”

Not taking his eyes off hers, he flagged down a waiter. “A bottle of your finest bourbon, two glasses.”

“Yes, sir.” The waiter scurried off to fulfill the order, and still Neven kept his eyes locked with Maggie’s.

“You will regret this in the morning,” he informed her.

“You’ll regret this when ya have to pay the bill.”

When the waiter returned with the bottle, Neven proceeded to pour out an equal amount of the amber liquid into each glass. He handed one to Maggie and held his aloft.

“ _Budmo_!” he said, tapping his glass against hers. They both drained their drinks in one gulp.

“Oh, that’s good stuff, shame to waste it on shots.” Maggie licked her lips.

“Is celebration and life is short. Drink up, _garna devchina._ ” He refilled their glasses. “I thought you want to win?”

“Bring it on, Russian.”

“That is rude.” Neven took a swig of his drink. “Chav.”

“Bloody, fookin’ right.” Maggie tiled her head back, downing the drink.

They continued on, tit for tat, all through their meal and well into dessert, the liquid in the bottle going lower and lower. After dessert was finished, the restaurant quiet after the dinner rush, they relaxed in their corner booth. Maggie’s eyelids were drooping, shading her eyes, and she had long ago kicked off her shoes, drawing her feet up. Neven sat back, his legs straight and swirled his drink.

“Neven? Can I ask you something?” She spoke slowly, carefully, but he knew it wasn’t because she had been drinking.

“Yes.” He was well aware of what she was about to ask, and for once he wouldn’t mind answering. Though it was impossible to know what her reaction would be.

“How did it happen? You hurting your knee?”

“Do you want to see it?” She looked startled but slowly nodded. Neven sat up, and she scooted away, giving him room to bring his leg up onto the cushions of the booth. He drew up the leg on his slacks, showing off the scarred, gnarled mess that had once been his right knee.

“Jesus, no wonder it hurts all the time.” She sat down her glass and reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over the scar. Neven gave her a faint smile and replaced the pant leg, shifting so his feet were stretched out again, leaning back.

He picked up his glass again and downed it, suddenly aware of how drunk he was. He leaned forward, filling his glass and topping off Maggie’s.

“Two years ago my partner retire to get married, start a family. I was given a break from dance, so I go home to Kiev.” He nursed his drink, staring at the candles on the table, burning down low in their holders. “I was champion with trophies piled high and sponsors and championship checks, and I was very smug.”

“In Kiev I got bored, so I started looking for fun. First it was clubs, with women and liquor, then it was betting on things – fights, races, even ballroom competitions.” He laughed. “Then I start to gamble. I played cards, poker. I did well enough in some establishments, got even more smug.”

Maggie shifted closer to him, absently placing her hand on his arm. Neven wasn’t sure she realized she’d done it, but accepted the support nonetheless.

“When I got too big for them, they tell me about a different club. More selective. So I go where they tell me. It was run down building in an old part of town, I should know it was no good, but that did not stop me. You pay to get in, the money forfeit if you win or lose. I start out good, then I lose. And I keep losing.”

He finally turned and met Maggie’s eyes, they were glassy and shimmering in the candlelight, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the liquor or his story. She grabbed his hand, holding it between both of hers. He smiled at her gently.

“I try to win back my money, but I only ever lose. I think if I can just get one good hand, I can get it all back. I ask for money from everyone I know, I lose sponsors because I won’t dance, and my coaches and trainers turn their backs. I sell things, everything I could. I lived in squalor so I could keep going back. I was stupid.”

“And they did that? To your knee?”

“Mmm,” he nodded. “I was so in debt, they send out thugs. First time they come, they knock on my door… it’s a warning. The second time they come, they beat down my door… it’s a reminder and a threat. The third time they come, they beat on me. The men, they don’t know anything about me, they just sending a message. So they attack and beat me, one finally took a metal pipe to my knee.”

Maggie made a noise in the back of her throat and he looked up at her. He sat down his glass and reached up, brushing some her hair behind her ear.

“Is my fault, I was stupid. They left me for dead; the landlady, she find me and call for help. They take me to a terrible hospital, the doctors are no good, they do, uh, ‘hack job’ on my knee. That is why it always hurt.”

“What happened after?”

“Dmitri come to Kiev, Kam too. Kam paid off my debts and my medical bills. You know about the studio, hm?”

“Yeah, a bit. Things aren’t going so well right now.”

“Kam is in debt now because of me.” He sighed. “I have no way to repay him, I do this now, coaching, but it will never come close to what he did for me.” Neven looked up at Maggie. “So you see, you should not feel bad for me, the leg is penance for ruining more than just my life.”

“I don’t believe that.” Maggie shook her head, she lifted up one hand, raking back his hair. Then her hand drifted down the side of his face, across his jaw to grip his chin, forcing him to look at her fully.

“I don’t believe that,” she whispered again. Her eyes were soft, darting over his face, her hand – always so soft and warm – still on his chin. Maggie pressed her lips together, brows knitted slightly, then leaned forward, pressing her lips against his.

Neven tilted his head back and she moved closer, leaning over him on her knees. Her hands were on either side of his face, fingers splayed as she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her close.

They pulled apart several moments later for air, Neven was practically stretched back on the seat of the booth while was Maggie draped over him. She pulled back, sitting up, and brushed her hair from her face, which was flushed pink, her lips swollen.

“I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” She shook her head with wide eyes, mortified.

“Mag–“

“I’m so sorry, Neven!” She scrambled to gather her coat and bag, sliding out of the booth. Without another glance toward him, she raced for the front door, shrugging into her jacket.

Neven scooted out of the booth and stood. Just before he took a step, one hand raised, he caught sight of his cane propped against partition of the booth. Sighing, he sank back down and rubbed his eye.

“Neven?” He looked up, stunned to find a timid Maggie in front of him.

“You came back?” he asked, blinking dumbly. She bite her lip and crouched in front of him.

“I was just, I was embarrassed. We’ve been drinking and you’re not in a good place, I should never have–“

“You are worry you take advantage of me?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Well it’s just that I’ve thought about kissing ever since you shaved your blasted beard, and you were spilling your guts…”she trailed off, looking down.

“Maggie?” Neven reached out, touching her shoulder. “Is good. Is very good.”

“Really?” She lifted startled eyes to meet his. “So… this won’t be awkward now?”

“I think only if we did not continue…?” Neven slowly lifted his hand, cupping her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. A slow grin spread across her face, lighting her eyes until they seemed to glow.

“I would like that.” She rocked forward and kissed him again.


	20. Chapter 20

As Edmond entered the Teasdale estate, he pondered over the roller coaster his employment there had been. At first it had seemed like the most obnoxious, unfair task he had been allotted in his life. Kam had not consulted him, dropping it in his lap like a ticking time bomb. Then it changed and seemed more like a tedious, seemingly pointless thing. 

Over time, though, it was no longer about the job, but more about his growing feelings for the vivacious, bubbly, silly blond girl. Except now, it was a confused mess, and he really didn’t want to go in and face the day. 

As he rounded the corner he nearly ran into Lord Teasdale and nodded to the older man. “I’m sorry, _monsieur_.”

“No, it’s perfectly all right, entirely my fault,” he said absently. He looked tired, the corners of his eyes pinched, dark smudges marring the fair skin. 

“Is everything all right, _monsieur_?” 

“It’s been a long week, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from Sylvia.” Lord Teasdale sighed wearily. “You see, with her debut and being properly presented to society, it means it’s time for her to start taking suitors more seriously.”

Edmond made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. 

“I have a few prospects, one in particular. She’s known Andrew for years, used to fancy him as a girl, but now she says it’s coming on too suddenly. She knew this would happen though, she can’t stay a child forever. We’ve been arguing over it for days.”

“Well, I’m sure things will work out for the best, in the end.” Edmond spoke slowly, trying to keep his voice even. “She has been so concerned with the dance, she hasn’t allowed herself time to think of anything else.” 

And he had been so stuck on his confused feelings, selfishly worrying about himself, that he hadn’t even noticed a change in Sylvia’s mood. He quelled the urge to sigh loudly and bang his head against the nearest wall. Instead he offered the Lord a reassuring smile, trying to relieve his worries, even if he had little respect for the man at the moment. 

“I suppose you’re right. When did you become such a wise young man?”

“I’m not wise, I just know…” he paused. He just knew how to lie through his teeth and fake a pleasant smile. “I see it from an outside perspective, that is all.” 

“Yes, well, I’m glad you’ve been around. Sylvia has grown a lot since she started lessons with you, the change is amazing.”

“I don’t think that has much to do with me, I think it’s all her own doing. Well,” he shook his head and smiled. “I should go, or else I will keep Sylvia waiting.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry for keeping you.” Lord Teasdale moved out of the way. Edmond made it halfway down the hall before Teasdale called his name.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how was it that you ended up in London? I would assume Paris would offer just as many opportunities for dance. Do you have family here?” 

“No, _monsieur_. It’s only me. I competed in Junior trials for many years, then when I started at the adult level I met Kameron, he adopted me in a way.” 

“Ah, well, you are a resilient young man. Very admirable.” The Lord nodded. 

“Thank you, _monsieur_.” Edmond inclined his head slightly then turned on his heel, heading toward the ballroom doors. He pushed one open gently, earning a muffled gasp and quick steps.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.” He grinned at Sylvia causing her to blush. Of course he had done the same thing to her once, however, he hadn’t been caught. 

“You don’t have any family?” 

“No.”

“What happened?” 

“Sylvia…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

“It’s just that you seem to know so much about me, whether by my mouth or someone else’s…” She made a face, eyes darting toward the door, then focused on Edmond again. “I hardly know anything about you. We are friends, aren’t we?” She batted her eyes. 

“I will not be manipulated with puppy eyes.” 

“I’m not trying to manipulate you with anything!” she cried, affronted. “I just thought perhaps you would like to talk?” 

“You’re curious, but that’s all right, I suppose.” He walked to the chairs in the corner and sat down. “Three questions, and you have to promise to make it through one pass of the waltz without pouting.”

“I don’t pout!”

“Yes, you do. Now sit.” 

Sylvia frowned at him, but settled into the chair next to him, back straight. “What happened to your parents?” 

“A car accident.”

“And you don’t have anyone else?”

He shook his head. “It was only ever me and my parents.” 

“How long ago was it?”

“Mmm, about twelve years.” 

“Where–”

“Ah, ah.” He lifted a finger, wiggling it. “Three questions, that was it.” Edmond stood up and held out a hand to Sylvia. “Now we dance.” 

She looked at his face for a moment, eyes searching and sad. Finally she sighed, shoulders slumping a bit, and fit her hand into his, allowing him to help her up. He led her to the center of the room, positioning them in front of the makeshift wall of mirrors. 

“I’m sorry, Edmond,” she said as they started their waltz pattern, looking up at him from under a fan of long lashes. 

“So am I.” He sighed and kept his eyes on various points around the room, anywhere but her face. “We were on holiday, driving down to the Provence. We got lost on some back road, it was late and raining and something – a dog or cat – darted in front of the car. My father swerved to miss it and lost control. I hardly had any injuries, just whiplash and a slight concussion, but my parents were not so lucky.” 

“What happened after?”

“I went to live in an SOS home outside of Paris. Not all that far from where I lived with my parents, actually.”

“A group home?” Sylvia murmured. 

“Mmm.” Edmond nodded, finally meeting Sylvia’s eyes. “The lady that ran my house was a wonderful woman, had been doing it for years. While I was there she only had boys, and there were usually about ten of us.”

“Are you still in contact with them?” 

“I stayed in contact with her, but she was older and died last year. As for the other boys, I stay in contact with a few of them.”

“So you do have some sort of family.” Sylvia smiled at him. 

“In a way, Kam and the others are more like family now. Lord knows they tease me enough.” He laughed, while he might complain, he did care a great deal for the Ryan brothers and Dmitri – even Neven wasn’t as bad as Jaden made him out to be. 

“That’s good, very good.” Even though she was still smiling, and her eyes were bright, there was a sense of melancholy. He squeezed her hand a bit, trying to gain her attention. 

“Are you all right?”

“Of course!” She feigned an overly bright smile, he stared blankly in return, eyebrow quirked. She deflated a bit, rolling her eyes. “It’s fine, truly. It’s what’s expected; I’ll have my party, and after that… things will change.” 

“Things will change a great deal, I expect.” Edmond caught himself before he started to frown and cleared his throat. “For one, you won’t have me pushing you around anymore.” 

“You don’t push me around.” She wrinkled her nose. “That will be strange though, not having lessons all the time.”

“It will.” Edmond did his best to keep his face indifferent, he could only hope he succeeded, not daring to risk a glance at his reflection the mirrors. “But you know what?”

“What’s that?”

“You’re getting closer. We just did the entire routine.”

“We did!?” Sylvia stopped, eyes wide.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t stumble!”

“No.”

“Edmond!” She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. Edmond returned the hug, trying not to think it over too much. He would be happy for her, proud. He would not think on other things. They were not his business. He was her instructor, and she his pupil, nothing more.


	21. Chapter 21

“He’s grinning.”

“Do you think he hit his head?”

“Maybe Dmitri brainwashed him?”

Zander and Jaden sat side by side in Kam’s office, heads bent together and hands shielding their mouths, even as they spoke in stage whispers. Dmitri stood in a corner, sniggering at them, while Neven leaned back in Kam’s chair, uncaring.

Kam shook his head, rolling his eyes and moved over to thump his brothers on top of their heads. “Stop it, you’re such children.”

“I haven’t seen Neven actually grin, let alone a shit-eating one, in years. I’m worried. Oh, I know! He’s doped up on pain meds, right?” Neven let out a sigh and cursed Jaden profusely in Ukrainian.

Jaden looked scandalized. “I haven’t heard half those words since we were on the circuit, it’s like the good old days!” He blotted his eye with the corner of his sleeve. “I may cry. No one look! I’m just a little emotional right now.” He turned toward Zander, laying his head on his brother’s shoulder, his own shaking violently as he pretended to sob.

“Idiot.” Kam turned toward Neven. “Maybe he’ll stop if you tell him why you seem so happy?”

“He go out every night with Maggie over the weekend.” Dmitri cut in happily. “And he stay at her place last night.”

There was chaos for a moment as everyone started speaking at once. Jaden and Zander asking for details, Neven yelling at his brother for ratting him out, and Dmitri rather calmly explaining that was his job as the younger sibling.

All in all it gave Kam a sudden urge to fling them all through the windows of his office, hoping that would shut them up.

“I did call this meeting to check in on everyone _professionally_ , not personally,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Where’s Edmond?”

Zander leaned back, looking down on the main room of the studio. “He’s coming, looks surly. Obviously he didn’t have any dates this weekend.”

“Speaking of dates,” Jaden cut in. “I heard from Maurice at Wild Thyme that you were seen there recently with a pretty blonde. Obviously this wasn’t me or Zander, so I’m guessing you were there with Mina?” He stressed her name out into several syllables.

“She came in on her day off for practice and ended up helping with the tap classes. I thought the least I could do was buy her dinner for the trouble.” Kam spoke brusquely, hoping that would be the end of it.

Of course it wasn’t.

“Well, I also heard that you two stayed for a long time after dinner, talking and laughing. Sounds like more than just a meal to me.”

Kam narrowed his eyes. “How are things with Ramona?”

Jaden’s entire disposition suddenly soured. “Fine,” he ground out.

“On speaking terms?”

“Yeah, so long as it’s about Blackpool and nothing else.” Kam wanted to press further, if for no other reason than to goad Jaden, but the door opened and Edmond walked in. He held out a parcel.

“From your mother,” he said. Jaden shot up and took it.

“Care package!” he crowed. As Jaden settled back in his seat, opening the box, Edmond walked past Kam to slap Zander on the back of the head.

“What was that for?” Zander cradled his head, glaring up at the Frenchman.

“Sylvia told me you were out with Adelaide, but ended the night early and were extremely rude. Why would you do that? Adelaide is a sweet girl, and judging by the way Sylvia talks, she obviously likes you… for whatever reason.” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait!” Jaden’s head snapped up, and he looked between Edmond and Zander, finally settling on the latter. “Zan had a date!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?”

“It wasn’t a date! We’ve talked about music before, and she wanted me to go a concert with her.”

“Sounds like a date to me.” Jaden wrinkled his nose. “Why were you rude?”

“I wasn’t rude! The fella she likes, he’s Sylvia’s cousin? He ended up being there, things were kinda weird.”

“Oh!” Jaden nodded, as if that explained everything. “You were jealous, I see.”

Zander sulked, arms crossed, and kicked Jaden. “Just shut up, would you? Go back to bothering Kam and Neven.”

Kam had had enough at that point. “How about we don’t talk about anyone’s personal life anymore?”

“Good luck with that,” Neven muttered. Kam turned around and glared at him.

“Bless our mother!” Jaden cried, finally having wrestled open the package. He held a slender box above his head like a trophy. “She sent Tim Tams!”

“Jaden, don’t–” Kam started, but the words had pulled Zander from his little pity party and he sat up, curls bouncing.

“Would you like a Tim Tam, Kim Kam?”

“Zander I will beat you, shut up.”

“KIMMY KAM LOVES HIS TIMMY TAMS!” The younger Ryans cried in unison.

“I hate you both.” Kam frowned as Jaden ripped open the package, the scent of the cookies making him feel ill. “Get those away from me.”

“There is a story, I think I like to hear?” Neven grinned, accepting one of the cookies from Jaden. “These taste good.”

“When Kam was a teenager, he ate like a horse, yeah? He’s always been a big fella, and he was competing and helping out at Gran’s studio, always working and always eating.” Jaden started to explain. “And his favourite thing to eat was Tim Tams. I was, what? Eight or nine?”

“I was six,” Zander cut in around a bite of cookie.

“Anyway we pooled our allowance and bought as many boxes as we could. I think it was ten or something, just an obscene about of cookies! Then, because Kam loved them so much, we dared him to eat them all.”

“In one sitting.” Zander nodded.

“You did not take dare, did you?” Neven looked up and Kam felt a slight flush rushing to his cheeks.

“I did.”

“I have never seen a person chunder so much in all my life! He missed a competition because of it.” Jaden laughed, eating another cookie.

“After that we decided to call him ‘Kim Kam’.” Zander grinned. “And he still can’t stomach the scent of them.”

“So we always ask mum send us some because they’re never the same unless they’re from home… and it pisses Kam off.”

“You are both jackasses, get out.” Kam pointed toward the door. “Everyone out, we’re done here. In fact, no more meetings until Blackpool. You're all on your own.”

“You know that is a bad idea, yes?” Dmitri raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t care anymore, do as you like, screw who you like. Just make sure you show up at Blackpool with a partner. And stop fucking calling me ‘Kimmy Kam’.”

“Stop being a baby.” Jaden stood up and shoved something against Kam’s chest. “Mum sent you your precious Cherry Ripe, no need to be so upset.”

Kam stared for a moment. “I am not upset over whether mum sent biscuits or not! I’m upset because none of you care. So just go, do whatever you want.”

Jaden clapped his hands. “Goodie! Self-righteous Kameron, my favourite!” He looked up at Kam sardonically. “We don’t care? Right, you have Zander teaching nearly every class here and doing all the upkeep for the studio, running himself ragged without a word. You’ve brought Neven out of hiding, which is a great thing, don’t get me wrong, but he came here for you. Dmitri and Edmond are both working harder than ever without a bad word between them. And I am currently partnered with someone who you knew full well I didn’t along with, and I haven’t… well, no, okay, I’ve complained a lot, but I’m still at it!”

Kam ran his tongue over his teeth, contemplating a reply but Jaden wasn’t finished.

“These little check-in meetings are more for your benefit than ours, and you know it. Well, what do you want to know? How are Dmitri and Maggie doing, Neven?” He turned toward the Ukrainian.

“Better and better. Things will go well at Blackpool.”

“Fantastic!” Jaden nodded. “How’re classes, Zander?”

“Great. All the little ones are happy and the older students are doing well.”

“See, Kam, good stuff! Edmond? Anything to report with Sylvia?”

“Sylvia is coming along well. Lord Teasdale is very pleased with the change in her, he wants to recommend us to friends for private lessons.”

“Well that’s bang up!” Jaden turned back to Kam, smile overly bright. “Ramona and I are kicking ass even if we can’t speak more than five words to each other right now. But you needn’t worry about Blackpool or any of the Latin championships after, we’ll do our professional duty. Happy now?”

“Jade--”

“No, it’s fine! Everything is hunky-dory, now let’s go and leave the grumpy ass to himself.” Jaden walked to the door and opened it, stepping into the hall. Before he shut it, Kam managed to find his voice again.

“I’m sorry.” Jaden didn’t respond but he cast Kam a smile over his shoulder before he left completely.

“Time for class, wouldn’t do to be late.” Zander stood slowly, brushed crumbs off his lap and moved toward the door. He stopped by Kam’s side and impulsively gave his brother a quick hug before darting out of the room.

“I should go as well, it’s a practice day.” Edmond patted Kam’s shoulder on his way out. Kam wasn’t in the mood for pity, but figured they all meant well enough. Dmitri slipped out after Edmond, muttering about playing third wheel.

“Good meeting.” Neven laughed, a little too gleefully for Kam’s liking.

“Ass.”

“Feel like old time, yes?” Neven grinned, teeth flashing. While he had taken to shaving again, there was currently day old stubble covering his jaw, and Kam wondered what all he had gotten up to over the weekend.

No, actually, he didn’t want to know.

“I suppose.” Kam smiled at Neven. “Better get going, go see your girlfriend before Dmitri makes a move.”

“He would not dare.”

Kam had to laugh, he hadn’t refuted the girlfriend part. “Keep smiling, mate, it looks good on ya.”

“I will try if you do.” Neven chuckled and walked out the door. Kam looked around his office, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the clock, it was nearly time to get to the practice room. Against his will, he felt a smile tugging the corners of his mouth at the thought of seeing Mina.


	22. Chapter 22

“I need break!” Dmitri cried, dropping Maggie’s hand and stepping back. Neven narrowed his eyes and lurched forward from his stool in the corner.

“You only start an hour ago. Did you injure yourself?” he asked, swallowing his annoyance at his brother and fringing concern.

“No, but you both make me uncomfortable.” Dmitri heaved a woeful sigh, shoulders slumping.

“Wot?” Maggie looked affronted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You. Both. Need.” Dmitri waved his hands wildly, gesturing toward Neven and Maggie, then smashed his hands together. “I cannot take this.”

“What are you talking about?” Neven hissed in Ukrainian.

Dmitri lifted an eyebrow, arms crossed. “It’s rude to talk about Maggie when she won’t understand us.”

“Well if you weren’t being an ass right now, I wouldn’t have to speak in Ukrainian. Now tell me, what are you talking about, you fool?” Neven glared, anger slowly rising.

“I mean that the tension between the pair of you has gone from the heat of a cheery fireplace to a roaring forest fire. It’s distracting!”

Neven stared at his brother, wide eyed, mouth opening and closing but no words would come out.

“I’m going to go get some coffee at the place on the corner. I’ll be back in…fifteen minutes? That should be adequate.” Dmitri nodded, obviously pleased with his decision. Without waiting for reply he turned around, grabbed his wallet from his bag by the door, and left.

“Where’s he goin?” Maggie asked, brows arched in confusion. 

“He is getting coffee. Said he would be back in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh.” Maggie chewed the inside of her cheek, causing it to dimple slightly, lips pursed.

They stood next to each other for a moment, looking at the door, then Neven caught her eye. The next instant they had their arms wrapped around each other, kissing for dear life, the sound of Neven’s cane clattering to the floor still echoing around the room.

 

***

 

Zander was nervous again. Edmond’s words still whirring around his mind. There was no way that Adelaide had anything more than friendly feelings toward him. It was not possible.

First, she had admitted she already fancied someone else. Second, that someone else was a polished man of high society, not some loud, obnoxious Aussie. Third, it just wasn’t probable.

However, none of that stopped him from being a giant ball of anxiety as he waited for the students of the beginners ballroom class to arrive. It was the last of the season, the last he would see of her before Sylvia’s party in three weeks.

“Stop pacing, you wear hole in floor.” Zander whirled around and glared at Dmitri. The Ukrainian was leaning against the door frame, one long leg crossed over the other. He took a sip of coffee, looking rather smug.

“Shut up. What’re you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

“I have coffee.” He held up the paper cup, saluting.

“Neven let you have a coffee break? Shit, he really has gone soft.”

“He not let. I take. He and Maggie need… alone time.” Dmitri’s lips twitched in amusement as he raised the cup for another sip.

“Ew, God!” Zander’s lip curled. “They’re not doing that in the practice room, are they? I have to clean those, you know!?”

“No worry, they are discreet.”

“Neven is about as discreet as a rabid dingo at a baby shower.” Zander shook his head. Dmitri looked confused, but didn’t ask for clarification.

“It will be good.”

“Fine.”

“Your class start soon?” Dmitri pushed away from the door and sauntered into the room. Zander frowned.

“Yeah,” he said slowly.

“Adelaide be here, yes? I have not met her. Perhaps it is time?” He took another sip of his coffee.

“Get the fuck out of my classroom.” Zander pointed toward the door, eyes narrowed.

“Oh!” Dmitri grinned widely, laughing. “Edmond right, you _are_ jealous.”

“I’m not any such thing, I just don’t want you mucking things up. Adelaide is very shy, she doesn’t need to be teased or hit on by the likes of you.”

“If you say so.” Dmitri shrugged, still smiling, and Zander glowered at him.

“I do.”

“I go then.” Dmitri started strolling toward the door just as students started filing in. He stood near the door, cheerfully greeting them as they entered. The tittering gaggle of friends all seemed quite enthralled with the attention, nearly tripping over one another.

Zander rolled his eyes then quickly arranged his face into a pleasant smile as he greeted the students, though he kept the majority of his attention on Dmitri. Oddly – or perhaps not, given how he’d ended their non-date date the other night – Adelaide was last to arrive for class.

She startled slightly when she walked through the door and Dmitri greeted her with a bow.

“Um.. Hello?” She knitted her brows together, confused, and sent Zander a questioning look.

“You must be Adelaide? I have not had pleasure.” Dmitri grinned.

“I am…” she said slowly. “And you are?”

“Dmitri Veremchuk at your service.” He picked up her hand, bending over it, and kissed the back of it.

“All right, that’s enough. Go back to practice.” Zander shooed the other man away.

“You are right. Farewell, Adelaide.” He grinned widely and winked. Adelaide giggled, though she appeared more confused than anything.

“Is he always like that?” she whispered to Zander as they watched the Ukrainian leave the room.

“Unfortunately, yes. I’m fairly certain he spikes his coffee with vodka!” He yelled after Dmitri, earning a barked laugh from the hallway.

“How are you? Are you well?” Adelaide asked softly.

“Yeah, everything is aces!” He gave her a bright smile, trying to forget Edmond and Dmitri’s words. She did not like him in that way, he was not jealous. They were friends. “Best to get class started.”

The class itself went well, everyone still attending had come along very well in the last few months, and he was proud of them. Adelaide especially. As the class wound down, he stepped forward to congratulate them all.

“You have all done wonderfully, and I’m very proud. You should all give yourselves a round of applause because you deserve it!” He clapped loudly. “Thank you all for learning with me, it’s been a pleasure to teach you.” Zander bowed to the class.

All the students took the time to shake his hand, thanking him personally for the class. The tittering gaggle of friends asking if there were more classes they could take later.

“We’ll be starting sign-ups for a new intermediate class in about six weeks, if you’d like?” He explained. “There are some competitions and other obligations in the coming weeks for the studio, so we’re postponing it a bit.”

They were sad the start was so far away, but said they would happily be back for the new class. He made a mental note that Kam would be teaching that class, come hell or high water. Eventually the classroom emptied until it was just himself and Adelaide.

“Zander?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“You’re sure everything is fine? I wasn’t sure after Friday….?”

“Nah, it’s all good. Have you seen your fella again?”

She shook her head, frowning slightly, “No, I’ve not.” 

“Well there’s the party, yeah? He said he’d see you there.”

“I suppose he did. And I’ll see you there, correct?” Adelaide stepped a bit closer, her hands folded behind her back.

“Sure well.” He nodded. “I should get going, I’ve a tap class soon and I need check the studio messages and things.”

“Right, of course. I’m sorry for keeping you.” She nodded firmly, giving him a tight smile. “I’ll see you at the party then. Thank you for class, it’s been a wonderful learning experience.”

He looked at her for a moment, wishing he could figure her out, but her face was closed off again, a mask of indifference. Finally he nodded and headed for the door.

“See you around, Miss Adelaide,” he murmured before leaving.

 

***

 

Breaking for lunch Kam opted to stay in the practice room, going over paperwork for the entries to Blackpool, and glancing over the final sketches for the costume design. He was so focused on the tasks at hand, he wasn’t aware of heeled feet clicking against the wooden floors. Or even the shadow that fell over him.

It wasn’t until Mina crouched down next to him that he realized she was there. “You’re working too hard.”

“If I don’t do it, no one else will.”

“When was the last time you had a day off, Kam?”

“What year is it?”

“Ha, ha.” Mina rolled her eyes and plopped down next to him. “You should eat.”

“I will,” he said absently, making a note on the sketches for Mina’s second show dress.

“Yes, you will,” Mina said, and started fishing something out of the paper bag at her side. She then carefully took the papers from Kam’s hands, replacing them with a carryout box.

“I thought I was the one who was suppose to worry over your health? I’m the coach, right?”

“You’re also a workaholic, which I can totally understand, but it’s food. Food is good.” Mina grinned and started opening her own carryout, revealing an order of greasy fish and chips. She casually took out the small containers of tartar sauce, dousing the entire thing.

Kam lifted an eyebrow. “Health food, I see.”

“Pfftt! I only dance as much as I do so I can eat as much as I like.” She broke off a piece of the battered fish, stuffing it into her mouth. “Besides, you’ve gotta have a little fun now and again, right?”

“What’s fun?”

“You’re so funny!” She stuck out her tongue. “Now eat.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They ate and passed the time amicably, Kam found himself drawn more and more to the outgoing young woman. A part of him tried to rationalize what a horrible idea that was: he was her coach, it wasn’t appropriate. She was also eleven years his junior, a child.

Despite that voice though, he enjoyed talking to her, they had more in common than he would have guessed, and under the bubbly, outgoing surface was a very dedicated and intelligent young woman.

Anton returned a while later to find them still huddled together on the floor in the corner of the room.

“Well, aren’t you two cozy?” he sneered.

“Just having lunch.” Mina stuffed the empty food containers back into the bag and stood up.

“I hope the grease won’t make you tired,” Anton said, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the carryout bag.

“It’ll be fine.” Mina curled her lip in annoyance. “Waltz for the afternoon?”

“Fine by me.” They moved to starting position, flowing into the routine.

“Kam?”

“Yeah?”

“Monty Python marathon on channel four tonight,” she said conversationally as she and Anton danced.

He smothered a smile. “Is that so?” 

“Yes, I think we should watch it together. It’ll be fun.”

“Are you flirting with Kameron?” Anton cut in. “Has he decided to start dating children?”

“First, I am not a child. Second, you are only a year older than I am so you have no room to talk. Third, even if I was, it’s hardly any of your business.”

“Oh, but I think it is. I can’t have your silly little crush mucking up my chances at winning.” Anton spoke in such a haughty tone Kam couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes.

“Ah, yes, because I’m just a silly little girl not a professional. Why don’t you get down off your high horse, hm? We all know I work twice as hard as you do.”

“All right, that’s enough!” Kam clapped his hands, feeling like a referee. “I will not have any petty arguments in my studio.”

“Fine.” Anton huffed.

“Works for me.”

“Good.” Kam nodded.

The day finished out quietly, neither Anton or Mina spoke much for the rest of the afternoon, and Kam was rather glad for that. They did well with their practice though, and in the end he was pleased.

Before they all left for the night, though, he caught Mina by the elbow and, for his own perverse amusement, made sure Anton could hear him.

“Your place or mine tonight?” Mina beamed at him, looking so happy that he didn’t even take notice of Anton’s reaction.


	23. Chapter 23

“So this is the estate of a Lord? Talk about fancy.” Zander whistled. He and Edmond were making their way up the driveway of the mansion, having arrived via public transit rather than a fancy black town car like many of the other guests of the night.

Lights were on in every window, making the mansion look like a glowing beacon in the night. People were wandering up the steps, decked in regal looking gowns and finely tailored suits.

While the pair of them were not grand members of society, both looked polished in their tuxedos. Edmond’s hair was combed back, the classic cut of his suit making him look like a movie star of the golden era. Zander’s was more modern, and he’d gathered his curly hair in a neat queue at the nape of his neck, the curls smoothed back with product.

“You’ve spent the last three months here? Will you be sad to leave it all behind? Does the butler call you sir and bring you bon-bons?” He grinned at Edmond, trying to alleviate some of his nerves, but it seemed nothing was working.

“Just stop it, Zander. Why are you even here?” Edmond muttered.

“Because I was invited, it would be rude not to show up.”

“Whatever.” Edmond shook his head, ascending the steps of the manor. As they walked through the front doors – greeted by a butler who took their jackets – Zander looked around, marveling at the place.

“Jesus,” he whispered.

“Zander, shut up,” Edmond hissed, yanking him away from the other partygoers. “Watch your mouth, you fool.”

“Sorry, it’s just really nice in here.”

“Please, you are a part of the help tonight, you should be seen and not heard. Now come along.” Edmond grabbed his wrist, yanking him along toward the ballroom. As they walked through the open doors, Zander managed to keep his thoughts to himself, but just barely.

“It’s magnificent.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you approve.” A middle aged gentleman said from the other side of Edmond.

“Lord Teasdale.” Edmond inclined his head. “This is Zander Ryan, from the studio, Sylvia invited him as another dancer for the night.”

“Ah, very good. That should make a lot of the girls happy, to have a professional partner for a dance or two.” Lord Teasdale smiled and nodded to them both. “Do excuse me, I must go mingle.”

“I should find Sylvia, make sure she’s ready for the dance.” Edmond left Zander without another word, blending in with the other penguins in their suits.

“Fine, abandon me.” Zander slowly edged his way toward the wall, surveying the crowd. He spotted a refreshment table at the other end and started toward it. He got about half way before he was stopped by a soft voice calling his name and a hand on his shoulder.

“Miss Ade…laide,” he managed to finish in a strangled voice. The grin that had been on his face as he turned, died the second he saw her standing there. She’d recently gotten her hair cut, the short locks were feathery and light, a section of the front pinned back with a sparkling comb.

The dress she wore was a midnight blue, a splash of glittering gems sweeping the hem. Spaghetti strapped, the neckline fell in cinched folds, exposing her long neck and smooth chest. She smiled at him, her lips a rosy pink.

“You look amazing.” He couldn‘t help staring a bit.

“Thank you. You look very handsome tonight, yourself. I’m glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Zander swallowed thickly. Though now he was having regrets, so many regrets.

Adelaide opened her mouth to speak, but another voice cut through the din of the party, and Gregory appeared at her elbow. “Good evening,” he said and held out a flute of champagne to her.

“Oh, Gregory!” Adelaide blinked rapidly, accepting the bubbling drink. “I didn’t realize you were here already.”

Zander didn’t want to stay for their chit-chat, instead slipping away from them, in search of his own drink... he would need it tonight.

 

***

 

Edmond had left Zander, not really caring what ended up happening to him, in search of Sylvia. Wading through the sea of people proved much more difficult than he had expected, especially by the main doors as everyone’s arrivals were announced. He tried to find the hidden side door to the hallway, but was again waylaid by Lord Teasdale.

“Edmond, my boy, would you come here a moment?”

He moved past a group of young women, all cooing over the decorations for the night, and stopped by the Lord’s side. “ _Monsieur_? How may I be of service?”

“I just have a quick favour to ask, but first let me introduce you to Andrew Worthington.” He gestured to a well dressed young man. Edmond guessed the man to be around his age. He was tall with hazel eyes and brown hair. He seemed nice enough, his smile warm as he inclined his head in greeting, but Edmond found himself disliking him immediately.

“Andrew, son, this is Edmond, Sylvia’s dance instructor.”

“Ah, well met. I’ve heard a lot about the change in Sylvia, seems you’ve done wonders.”

“As I’ve said to Lord Teasdale before, I cannot take credit for that.” He tried to smile, but he was sure it came out more as a grimace. He focused on the Lord again. “You had a favour to ask, _monsieur_?”

“Yes, I was hoping when you finish your dance with Sylvia, if it would be a bother to end up close to the dais down there? It would be helpful for the announcement, less fuss.” He pointed to the far end of the hall, where a small raised platform covered in rich red carpet had been added.

“Of course, that shouldn’t be a problem.” He nodded. “Might I ask what this announcement is?”

“That’s right, you wouldn’t know.” Lord Teasdale smiled brightly. “After being officially presented to society and her little dance, I plan to announce Sylvia’s engagement to Andrew.”

“I see.” Edmond felt like he’d been punched in the gut, his breath leaving him in a whoosh. “Well then, congratulations.” He inclined his head toward Andrew, but his eyes were unfocused. “Sylvia is a lovely girl.”

“Thank you.” Andrew lifted his champagne flute in a toast.

“I should be going, _monsieur_. I was trying to find Sylvia, make sure she hasn’t forgotten everything in her excitement.” He laughed lightly, forcing a smile. “Congratulations again.” He bowed to both men, and left as quickly as he could without seeming rude.

Edmond edged his way to the side door, taking several calming breaths. Lord Teasdale had said as much a few weeks ago, there was no need to be surprised. In truth he wasn’t surprised so much as hurt. Hurt that Sylvia hadn’t told him, he thought they were closer than that. Shaking his head he opened the door carefully, slipping into one of the quiet halls leading from the main one. As he shut the door behind himself, he heard a hissed whisper.

“Edmond!” Sylvia was peeking around the corner, waving him over.

“Hello, Sylvia.” He walked down the hall as she stepped out to meet him, and his breath caught.

Her buttery blonde hair was held back with a small crystal tiara, the long locks curled in fat ringlets cascading down her back. Her white dress was a frothy mass of tulle and satin, the strapless bodice ruched, and cinched with a satin belt. She grinned at him, twirling with her hands out.

“Isn’t it lovely? I confess that the entire of idea of the party is more for society than for me, but I adore the dress!” She giggled, her cheeks a healthy pink, and her silvery eye shadow twinkling every time she blinked.

“ _Vous regardez magnifique_ ,” he breathed before he could even think to translate the words to English. Sylvia giggled, her cheeks flushing a little pinker.

Edmond cleared his throat nervously. “Are you ready?”

“I think so?” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been in my room all day going through the pattern, I hope I don’t forget anything.”

“I am positive you will do fine. Besides no one will remember if you made a mistake or not, only how pretty you looked.” He held out his elbow to her and she slipped her arm throw his.

“Thank you, Edmond.” She smiled up at him. “And you look so handsome tonight, it’s like a fairy tale.”

“Pah.” He shook his head. “The good thing about Ballroom competition is that I always have a nice suit to wear.”

Sylvia giggled again, light and tinkling, as they walked down the hall, circling back to the main doors of the ballroom – which were closed now for her grand entrance. She nodded to the footmen before them, and they slowly pulled open the doors, causing a hush to fall over the partygoers on the other side.

The announcement rang out as they entered the room, though Edmond paid it little mind. They stopped and Sylvia dropped his arm, curtseying to the people gathered. Then they turned toward each other, Edmond bowing as she curtseyed to him. Straightening up he gathered Sylvia into a closed position.

“Ready?” he whispered.

“Yes.” She nodded with a smile. The string quartet hired for the night struck up the first few notes of Strauss’s _Emperor Waltz_ , and off they went.

They glided smoothly across the floor, in perfect unison, the music washing over them. As they twirled and spun around the wide floor, everything seemed to melt away. There was no one watching, no one judging, not a care in the world. It was like their practices, just the two of them in the quiet room, their only focus on the other person.

Every step Sylvia took was perfect and practiced, grace flowing through every movement. Edmond couldn’t help but smile as they danced, proud of her. He took them through the final spin, leaving them near the dais like he had promised.

As they came to a halt, still in the hold, the last strains of the violin were still humming through the air, the people gathered all started to clap and cheer. Sylvia grinned at Edmond, a little giddy.

“I did it all right?”

“Perfect, _chérie_.” He smiled softly. Before he stepped back, letting her go to her father, he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed both cheeks. “Perfect,” he said again and pulled away just as Lord Teasdale stopped at his daughter’s side.

Edmond watched Sylvia as she was led away, casting glances over her shoulder at him, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. She gave him a bright grin before turning her attention on her father.

Sighing, Edmond slipped past the partygoers and waitstaff, heading toward the doors as Lord Teasdale’s voice rang out.

“I cannot thank everyone enough for coming tonight, it has been a very special day. If you will indulge me for a moment, I hope to make tonight all the more memorable with a special announcement.....”

Edmond rushed out the doors, unable to hear the words that would shatter his world. As he left the mansion, meaning to head back to his flat, he was already plotting an extended vacation to nurse a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically Sylvia's dress: http://www.bestbridalprices.com/images/allure/f2012/large/8957.jpg
> 
> And because I have an extensive collection of ballroom videos. A pretty Viennese waltz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0uhS1Iq2Og


	24. Chapter 24

Zander had shored himself up by downing a glass of whisky, then set about his job for the evening: playing gentleman for the various ladies of the party, taking them for a turn around the dance floor.

While he danced he kept tabs on Adelaide, aware that she had two dances with Gregory – her form and steps perfect – and that he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. Not that Zander blamed him, though he was exceedingly jealous.

He did grow concerned when he saw Adelaide shake her head at Gregory, then excuse herself. She headed for the French doors that led to what he assumed were the gardens, looking rather bleak. Zander politely freed himself from the group of people he was currently engaged with, and followed Adelaide.

It was quiet outside, most people forgoing the gardens after a drizzling rain earlier in the day had left everything damp and cold. Her dress blended in with the darkness of the evening, but her fair skin seemed to glow, ethereal.

“Adelaide?”

She started and glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, Zander, hello.”

“Is everything all right? You seem out of sorts.”

“It’s fine.” She shook her head. Zander frowned and moved to stand in front of her, trying to look at her face.

“Are you sure? I thought everything was going well, it seems like Gregory couldn't take his eyes off you.”

“I suppose,” she shrugged, ducking her head.

“Did something happen?” Zander touched her wrist, trying to get her to look at him again. “Was he rude? Do I need to challenge him to a duel or something?”

“No,” she laughed a bit. “It’s just…” she paused, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Finally she looked up to meet his gaze. “I just don’t care.”

He focused on her, face grim. “What? I thought you spent all this time to get his attention? You seem to have it now, too.”

“I did, at first. I’ve just realized that my feelings for Gregory were very superficial. I thought we’d be a good match, and in theory I suppose we would, but the heart does not abide by such rules.”

“So you’re over him?” Zander tried to keep his voice even.

“It was never real. Though I am thankful for the fancy, it’s helped me to understand what is.” Adelaide took a deep breath, looking to her right, the ground, anywhere but his face. “You see, Zander, somewhere along the way, between our classes and chats and everything I think I fell for you, and–”

As she spoke, Zander’s heart jumped up into his throat, then it seemed to pause, stuttering before racing like he’d run a marathon. Eventually he decided he had heard enough and didn’t need to let her finish. Zander instead wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her bodily toward him, pressing his lips against hers. 

When he pulled back after a moment, Adelaide was blushing fiercely, but her eyes were bright and happy.

“I was going to let you go, you know? Because I wanted you to be happy, and I wasn’t gonna be some ass who took that away from you. So I was just gonna step aside, and be a moody arse for the rest of my life.”

Adelaide giggled, biting her lower lip. She reached up her hand, running it down the side of his face. “I couldn’t figure you out, you were such a flirt and then you weren’t. I thought I was silly for ever thinking you might like me.”

“It‘s a fair bit more than like, but we can start there.”

She grinned then: a full, bright one that lit up her eyes until they glowed like the fairy lights in the trees lining the gardens. Zander had always wondered what it would be like to see her really smile. In the end it was more beautiful than he imagined, and he felt the greatest thrill knowing he was the cause of it.

Adelaide lifted up on her toes and kissed him again, this one slow and gentle. When they pulled apart again Adelaide rested her head on his shoulder, and they stayed together for several moments.

“We should probably head back in, we can’t miss Sylvia’s dance,” Zander said. “And I think I’m owed one… or twelve.”

“I think you are, too.” She giggled and pulled back. “Let’s go.” Adelaide slipped her hand into his and together they walked back to the party.

Entering the ballroom again, they were in time to see the end of Edmond and Sylvia’s waltz.

“She looks so beautiful,” Adelaide sighed wistfully.

“She does, no wonder he’s gone on her.”

“What?” Adelaide looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Edmond, he’s completely gone on Sylvia. Has been for the longest time.” Zander looked down at her, lifting his shoulders.

“Do you mean he actually loves her?” She turned slightly and gripped his arm tightly. “Truly loves her?”

“Yeah, as far as I can tell. Why?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, bother.” Adelaide placed her hand on her forehead. “I heard Sylvia and her father earlier… oh, dear.”

“What is it?” Zander suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He turned to see Edmond kiss Sylvia in the French style and whisper something to her, then she was being dragged off by her father.

Zander kept one ear tuned on Lord Teasdale’s words while his eyes followed Edmond, looking forlorn as he tried to sneak out of the party. Eventually he lost sight of his friend in the crush of people, and turned back to Teasdale.

“I would like to officially announce the engagement of Sylvia to Andrew Worthington.” Zander watched as a young man stepped forward, everyone clapping happily.

“She’s getting engaged?” Zander hissed.

“Her father has been pressuring her, she only agreed just this morning. But she doesn’t care for Andrew, she’s head over heels for Edmond, only she never thought he liked her that way.” Adelaide started chewing on her lower lip.

“Good God, they need more help than we did! Come on!” Zander grabbed her hand and started worming his way through the crowd. He struggled past a tight group and ended up behind Sylvia as she was accepting well wishes and congratulations.

“Edmond is crazy about you.”

“What?” She whirled around, wide eyed.

“Edmond is completely mad about you. If you’d like a bit of friendly advice? I’d ditch this shindig and go after him.”

“But I can’t…” Sylvia shook her head.

“Do you love him?”

“I-I...” Sylvia paused and looked around, seeing if anyone was listening. “Yes.”

“Then I think you owe it to yourself, and to him, to go tell him.” Sylvia looked like a doe in the crosshairs for a moment, then she saw Adelaide’s hand in Zander’s. She paused, worrying her lip while she thought. Finally she nodded to herself and looked back up at Zander, face full of determination.

“Give me a moment to speak with my father, then you can tell me where Edmond lives.” She disappeared in a flash and Adelaide leaned against Zander’s side.

“Good on you.”

“I’m feeling very magnanimous tonight.” He grinned and laid a kiss against her forehead.

 

***

 

Edmond stalked around his living room, waiting for someone to pick up on the other end of the phone. His tuxedo jacket had been shrugged off and thrown to the floor when he entered, and he was now absently undoing his bowtie as the line rang.

“ _Air France, how may I assist you?_ ” A pleasant voice finally answered.

Edmond casually slipped into French as he spoke with the clerk. “Yes, I’m hoping for a ticket on your earliest flight to Paris.”

“ _Ah, yes. One moment, sir, while I look that up. Hold, please._ ” Edmond grunted in response and started unbuttoning his shirt, the ends of the bowtie fluttering with the movement. He continued pacing, trying to ignore the heaviness that had settled in his chest.

“ _Sir? I one seat left on the six am flight, will that do?_ ”

“That should be–” He stopped as a knock sounded on his door. Figuring it was Zander checking up on him he yelled out, not even bothering to switch to English. “ _Va-t'en, imbécile!_ ”

“Edmond?” The voice on the other side of the door was decidedly _not_ Zander’s, and Edmond stopped mid-step, the phone falling his hand to clatter against the floorboards.

“ _Sir?_ ” the voice on the other end of the phone repeated a few times before the line went dead. Edmond didn’t even notice, he could only stare at the door in shock.

“Edmond? Are you there?” Sylvia knocked again.

Swallowing thickly, He stepped over the phone and pulled open the door. Sylvia stood on the other side, panting slightly and her face red as if from some big exertion. “I ran all the way here, Zander said…. and I couldn’t not know, so I had to find you, he told me where. My father was angry, but I don’t care, I just…” she took a deep breath and looked up at him with imploring eyes. “I have to know if you love me? Because I am so very in love with you.”

“ _Quoi?_ ” He blinked at her rapidly, trying to process the words.

“Zander saw you leave and then the engagement – oh, I didn’t want to, Edmond, but father was pushing me and pushing me!” She threw up one hand, shaking her head. “I thought it was the right thing to do, what was expected of me, and I never once thought you might return my feelings. But now you might and I just need to know if it’s true or not. Was Zander right? Do you love me?” She looked up at him, hope shining in her blue eyes.

“ _Oui_ …” he murmured then shook his head slowly, “I mean yes.” He looked at her, eyes softening. “Yes, I love you. I thought – I was going to leave, go back to Paris for a while. I just, it hurt.”

Sylvia let out a watery laugh, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and flung herself at him, arms circling his neck as his went about her waist. Edmond held her tightly, his face buried in her neck, and breathed in her scent.

After the span of several shuddering heartbeats, they pulled apart slowly, and Edmond realized the entire show had basically taken place in the hallway of his apartment building. He grabbed Sylvia’s hand and nodded inside.

“You should come in, we have a lot to talk about.” He guided her inside, shutting the door with a faint click.

“We do, but first things first.” Sylvia rocked forward on her tiptoes, clutching the lapels of his shirt, and kissed him full on the mouth.


	25. Chapter 25

“You know what the main problem with competing is?” Jaden stopped in the middle of their routine and looked at Ramona. Things had been strained since their fight, but they had eventually settled – like they had when they were first paired – on a tentative peace while they trained. It was late and they were alone, putting the finishing touches on their routines before they left for Blackpool in the morning. It had actually been one of the better days they’d had together in a long while, something Jaden was grateful for.

Ramona grabbed her water bottle and took a long drink. Jaden waited while she screwed the cap back on, and sat it down again. “What’s that?” she asked indulgently.

“It ruins music. You listen to the bloody thing over and over again while learning the routine, then you perform it eighty-million times on the circuit. It’s crap.” He walked to the CD player and switched to the radio. “I was in the shop last night, our Cha Cha song came on and my feet just started moving on their own. It was terrible!”

“What did you do?” Ramona lifted an eyebrow. She tried to affect a bored tone, but Jaden could tell she was amused.

“I grabbed the nearest cashier and started dancing, of course. Though I don‘t think the old bugger liked it much, he nearly punched me and told me to naff off.” Jaden shrugged.

A giggle burst from Ramona. Her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth, shocked. Jaden grinned at her, entirely pleased to see her smile. A new song came on the radio, upbeat and quick, one that Jaden knew.

He held out his hand to Ramona and waggled an eyebrow. “Dance with me!”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” She rolled her eyes, though her lips were twitching.

“Not dance, but _dance_. You know, like you’re at a club or a party… or drunk at a wedding!”

“Do you do that often?”

“Nah, but you can bet your ass when either of my brothers tie the knot, I will be shaking it on the dance floor, completely pickled!” He leaned forward and plunked up her hand, forcing her into the action.

Jaden twirled Ramona as the music played and started singing along, “Singing hey mama, don't want no drama.” He spun her out and she stopped for a beat, her free arm thrown out, a wide smile plastered to her face as she looked back at him. He pulled her back in. “Just a kiss before I leave. Hey lady, don't say maybe….”

“Don’t do that.” Ramona dropped his hands and stepped away, all amusement gone.

“Sing? I’m not that terrible, am I?” He laughed.

“Just… don’t do that.” Ramona looked pensive, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Fine, I won’t do that.” She nodded, walking to the stereo. She changed the music back to their samba song, and they went back to rehearsing.

They worked through the routine for about twenty minutes without a word. Then in the middle of their samba rolls, Jaden had had enough, letting go of Ramona mid-move.

“This is terrible.” He shook his head, arms akimbo.

“I know, it’s my fault.” She ran a hand over her ponytail, sighing.

“Your samba has never been great. You need to loosen up, Ramona. You have all the fire for the other dances, but for this you just never… let go.”

“I’m trying,“ she snapped.

“I know, it just needs to get better before tomorrow. I mean, have you been to Rio? It’s a party dance. People in the streets just going for it. It’s fantastic. Just,” he paused, not sure what he was saying anymore. “You just need to loosen it up.”

Ramona let out a breath through her nose.“You suggested that to me once before, do you remember? You took me drinking.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I remember, too.”

“You got pretty drunk there, surprised if you remember much.”

“I remember enough.” Ramona stared off into space, massaging her shoulder gently. She snapped to after a moment, and fixed him with a sharp gaze. “I know you have strong, unfavourable feelings for me, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t tease me about that time.”

“I’m not teasing you. I was merely stating a fact.”

“But when the song was playing before and you were singing those lyrics to me? That wasn’t teasing?” She narrowed her eyes, nostrils flared.

“That wasn’t meant to be… but since you clearly want to take it that way, go right ahead!” He bowed to her mockingly.

“For the record, Jaden, I was not that drunk. I knew exactly what I was doing, and _you_ rejected _me_.”

“You’re honestly going to play the victim here?” Jaden looked at her incredulously. “You must have some very warped opinion of me if you honestly think that I would, one,” he held up a finger in front of her face. “Take advantage of a young woman after I’d watched her pounding back tequila shots like they were water – even if she was making some very tempting offers. Two,” he held up another finger before dropping his hand. “That I would do anything of the sort with a taken woman… sober or otherwise. I flirt, sure, but I am not some rutting pig!” He spat.

“Great! You’re a gentleman!” She threw her hands in the air, then stopped as the rest of his words sank in. “Taken!? What do you mean?”

“Martino!”

“Martino?” she asked, voice softer now.

“Yeah! He was around all the bloody time, the tabloids were extremely fond of relating all your exploits with him around town. Dinner and shows… it all sounded very romantic.”

Ramona deflated, eyes roving over his face. “You said no that night because you thought I was dating Martino?”

“I said no because you’d been drinking and I wasn’t about to have our first time be a drunken mistake!” he blurted before he could even think. “Something easily swept under the rug by your rich fiancé!”

“I wasn’t with Martino!” she exploded. “The tabloids are full of shit, you know that! I was single and in love with you! Madly so after all the time on the circuit! I wasn’t with Martino,” she repeated softly, shoulders sagging.

“Well, you sure as hell are now.” Jaden waved his hand at the ring on her finger, the large diamond glittering mockingly under the studio lights. He sighed, looking at his feet.

“Did you have feelings for me? Back then?” Ramona’s voice was so soft, barely above a whisper, but the words seemed to echo loudly in his ears.

“Of course I did.” Jaden looked up at her from under his lashes. “There was a reason I always talked to you when we were touring together. Didn’t you ever notice my following you around? That night I was tempted, nearly agreed to going back to your hotel room.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shook his head. “I honestly thought you were drunk and I didn’t want to take advantage, I cared about you too much…. kinda still do,” he whispered.

“Jaden.” Ramona took a step forward, eyes soft, hand out. Before she could say any more another voice sounded from the hall.

“Ramona! Please tell me you’re done for the day?” Ramona backtracked several paces, letting her hand fall.

“Go on, better not keep him waiting.” Jaden jerked his head toward the door, arms folded behind his back. “Have a good night, Mona,” he murmured, the old nickname tumbling from his mouth before he could catch it.

Ramona’s eyes widen, swimming with unshed tears but she quickly slammed them shut before they spilled over, and swallowed thickly. When she opened her eyes again her face was a mask of indifference.

“Yes, Martino,“ she called, never taking her gaze off Jaden. “We’re finished.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song (because music is very important to me and was a huge influence with this story): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9qUMr6feOI


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next consist of blatant cameos. Feel free to ignore them, just know they're all amazing fanfic writers who helped me plot, soundboard, or just fangirled while I was writing this. :D

“It’s big.”

“That’s all you can say? That is your great, witty remark for the day? ‘It’s big’?”

“Well, it is!”

Jaden stared at Zander as if he had grown a second head. “You’ve been here before. You’ve _competed_ at Blackpool before!” he said incredulously.

“That was like, two years ago, I don’t remember it being so big.” Zander lifted a shoulder.

“Love has made you daft. Adelaide,“ Jaden leaned around his brother to look at her, “you’ve made him stupid.”

“Don’t say that to her, you jackass!” He slugged Jaden in the arm.

“Ow!” Jaden cried and a fight ensued, the two brothers wrestling with one another in front of Winter Gardens, the passersby giving them a wide berth. The large entertainment plaza sat in the centre of the Blackpool borough, stretching out for several blocks. The complex contained the Empress Ballroom, where the Blackpool Dance Festival would be starting in just a few short hours, taking up the entire weekend.

Kam ignored his brothers and tapped Adelaide’s shoulder, she turned around, eyes wide. “Shouldn’t you stop them?”

“It will do no good, best to let them have it out. I do apologize for them, though. I would say they’re not normally like this, but that would be a lie.” He shook his head sadly.

“Is what brothers do. When we children?” Neven shrugged, gesturing between himself and Dmitri. “It not a regular day unless one of us have a black eye or something because of the other.”

“Well, I suppose if you’re children, but they’re adults!” Adelaide hissed.

“Who told you that lie!?” Jaden squawked at her, holding a squirming Zander in a headlock. “I am not an adult. Kam, stop spreading disgusting rumours about me.”

“Moron.”

“Will you let me go now?” Zander asked, ceasing his struggle.

“I guess.” Jaden shrugged and dropped Zander, who nearly fell flat on his face from the sudden lack of support. Straightening up he shoved back his hair, glaring.

“If you weren’t dancing today I would steal Neven’s cane and crush your toes.”

“I like to see you try to take.” Neven narrowed his eyes, grip tightening on the handle of his cane.

“Like you wouldn’t want me to crush his toes.” Neven thought for a moment, pondering the idea, then slowly grinned and held out his cane. “Who care if he can’t dance today?”

“I would.” They all turned to find Ramona marching toward them, her entourage swarming behind her like buzzing bees. She wore a black suit skirt and pressed white blouse, her polished black heels clicking against the sidewalk.

She stopped and pushed up her large sunglasses on top of her head. “I haven’t worked this hard to lose my partner because he is friends with a bunch of petulant children.”

“Hello, Ramona,” Kam greeted her kindly.

“Hello, Kameron.” She smiled at him brightly, then turned to Jaden, her demeanor changing; however, not in the way Kam would’ve expected from the story he’d wrestled out of Jaden on the way in from London. She wasn’t angry or blustery, or even sad, but rather shy. And he found that very interesting.

“I’m going to get ready, I’ll see you before we’re set to start?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around.”

“Good.” She nodded and lowered her sunglasses again, giving everyone a cheery wave as she walked inside.

“Not a fucking word.” Jaden held up a hand before Kam could even open his mouth. With his back straight and shoulders back, Jaden marched into the building.

“So... today is going to be a good one!” Zander rubbed his hands together. “I need to find some popcorn and settle in. Come on, love!” He grabbed Adelaide’s hand, dragging her inside Winter Gardens.

“I think I’ve given up all hope for this day and it hasn’t even started yet.” Kam covered his face with both hands.

Neven patted his back. “It will be okay.”

“Care to try saying that while looking me in the eye?” came the muffled reply.

“No.” Neven laughed, thumping Kam on the back again.

 

***

 

“Everything looks okay?” Maggie turned around in her dress, the skirts swishing. “I’m so happy to have the lining, no more accidents.”

Neven grinned. “I would not mind so much.”

“Right, I’ll just go flash the judges then.” She rolled her eyes.

“Joke aside, you look beautiful.” Maggie beamed at him.

“Just kiss already,” Dmitri cut in. Neven smacked him on the back of the head and stood up. “I go talk to Kam, see if registration is good and get your numbers.”

He started to leave, but backtracked to kiss Maggie quickly. She giggled as he walked away, plopping down on the vacant seat next to Dmitri, eyes faraway.

“You two are disgusting.” He knocked his shoulder against hers. “I am happy for you; you do Neven good.”

Maggie brushed back a stray curl, rubbing her lips together to keep her giant smile at bay. “I’m so happy, Dmitri. I don’t care if we come in last today. I’m just... giddy.”

“Maggie? Oh, it is you!” said a woman that had been passing-by, she was dressed in a shimmering soft-pink gown, her hair pulled back in a French twist. She stopped in front of them, leaning forward a bit with her hands on her thighs.

“Yvonne, hello,” Maggie said, tightlipped.

“I knew you would be here, I was reading over the entries, but I hardly recognized you with your hair down!” She smiled in a pitying sort of way that Dmitri didn’t like. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good.” Maggie stood up, giving the woman a brief hug. She stood stiffly and then remembered Dmitri was there. “Yvonne, this is my partner, Dmitri…. this is Yvonne, we were in classes together for years.”

“Oh!“ The woman’s eyes sparkled as she looked Dmitri up and down. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve been quite happy lately with your little Russian, is this him?”

Maggie’s nostrils flared, and she narrowed her eyes. “Dmitri is just my partner. My boyfriend, Neven, is Ukrainian not Russian.”

“Ah, I see. Well, either way, you’ve got a glow!” She reached out and patted Maggie’s cheek, a little too firmly. “You look so happy, and there’s always that new relationship rush, getting wined and dined, putting on a bit of weight. But it looks good on you.”

Maggie took a threatening step toward her, teeth gritted. Dmitri moved between them, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Maggie, don’t.” He turned on the other woman. “We are going now, we don’t have time to waste on petty witches like you.”

Dmitri turned his back on her, trying to guide Maggie away. They took one step and a loud ripping noise rent the air. Dmitri and Maggie turned as one to see one layer of her skirts completely torn from the rest of the dress, trailing her.

“Oh, that’s it.” Maggie started toward Yvonne, eyes flashing.

“No, Maggie.” Dmitri again blocked her, trying to keep his voice calm. “Is not worth it, you will get kicked out.”

“Better listen to your friend, wouldn’t do to get blacklisted from competition.” Yvonne sneered.

“Look here ya twat! I oughtta wipe that smug look off your ugly face!” Yvonne eye’s widened in shock, then narrowed coldly. Dmitri was too busy holding Maggie back, he was unable to stop the other woman. Yvonne raised her hand to slap Maggie but another person stepped in, holding Yvonne’s wrist in a tight grip.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The dancer that had intervened was tall, her black hair pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. The deep red dress she wore was tight with slits on either side, exposing long, willowy legs.

“You’re hurting me,” Yvonne whined, trying to free her wrist. The dark haired woman blinked at her blandly.

“Going to report me?” She dropped Yvonne’s hand, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because I think I can do the same to you. You ripped her dress on purpose, I saw the gleam in your eye.”

“This is none of your business.” Yvonne looked her up and down. “So why don’t you just toddle along?”

“Well I’m making it my business. Especially since you’re trying to provoke her into a confrontation. Why don’t we take a walk to the judges booth, hm?”

“Why don’t you walk your long legs over there, love? This has nothing to do with you!”

The young woman mockingly fluttered her lashes. “You’re checking out my legs? How sweet.” Then, her eyes narrowed, she snagged Yvonne’s wrist again before the other woman could react. “You have about fifteen seconds to apologize and halfway-gracefully back away. Or you can accompany me to the judges’ table with a VERY. Sore. Wrist. _Bu zhi hao dai de mu ye cha._ ” The hand on Yvonne’s wrist tightened and twisted as the girl pretended to consult a watch. “Make that about ten seconds. Nine. Eight.”

Dmitri had long forgotten about holding Maggie back, instead watching this beautiful woman put Yvonne in her place, and then some. He was oddly curious as to what might happen next, but a handsome gentleman with black hair, and a red and black shirt to the match the beautiful woman’s dress, stepped in.

He said a few words to her, she made a face and rolled her eyes, but dropped Yvonne’s hand again. The man told Yvonne to go, she nodded and left as quickly as she could, racing as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.

“You can let go now, Dmitri.” Maggie laughed at him, still staring at the woman in the red dress. He shook himself and let Maggie go.

“Thank you.” Maggie turned toward the other woman, smiling brightly.

“I can’t stand women like that; petty and childish.” She waved a hand. “I’m Thalia, by the way.”

“Maggie. And this is Dmitri, my dance partner.”

“Ah, nice to meet you both. This is my partner, Rishi. He keeps me from killing people.”

“But don’t mistake me for the nice one.” He smiled.

Thalia rolled her eyes and looked at Maggie. “Is your dress okay?”

“Oh, I think so?“ Maggie glanced down sadly at the ruined garment. “I’ll just have to pin it up.”

“Our costume designer came with us. I’m sure she can fix it.”

“No, I don’t want to put you out–” Maggie started to say, but was cut off.

“You’re coming.” Thalia grabbed her hand and started dragging Maggie toward a group of young women in a corner of the hall. Dmitri shrugged at Rishi and followed the two women.

Dmitri and Maggie were led to a quiet corner of the Ballroom where a group of young women were waiting; various garment bags, make-up cases, and shoe boxes were taking up the majority of the chairs lining the wall.

Two girls sat on the floor across from each other, stacks of playing cards strewn around them, and a few still in their hands. The girl with darker hair held back in a ponytail laid down her last pair of cards, throwing her arms in the air while crying, “I am the master commander!”

“Robin? Rae? Do you think you could take a look at a ripped dress?” Thalia jerked her thumb at Maggie. In a moment the two girls were up and inspecting the skirts of Maggie’s dress.

“I think it’ll be an easy fix, let me get my sewing kit,” the one named Robin said. In no time at all the two costume designers set to work while Maggie stood perfectly still, marveling at their efficient work.

Dmitri looked around at the makeshift prepping area, and found a third young woman sitting calmly, going over registration paperwork. He heard Thalia address her as “Jess” and assumed her to be their coach. With such a fine group of women around, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He was getting ready to flirt with each and everyone of them when his brother came lurching toward them, scowling.

“What happened?” he demanded when he was within earshot. “Is everything all right?”

“It is now.” Maggie straightened her freshly hemmed dress, smiling. “I can’t thank everyone enough.”

“Okay, is good, but what happen?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.” Maggie patted Neven’s chest, giving him an encouraging smile. He eyed her, obviously not pleased she wasn’t giving him details, but accepting nonetheless.

“We should go, Jaden and Ramona are getting ready to dance.” Neven turned away from Maggie and smiled at the group. “Thank you for your help.”

“Yes, thank you everyone!” Maggie grinned, making a round to give everyone in the group a warm hug. Dmitri didn’t really care about seeing Jaden and Ramona dance, more interested in the plethora of pretty women.

“Come along Dmitri.”

“But I–“

“Dmitri.” Neven’s tone brooked no argument, and he sighed heavily.

“Goodbye beautiful women!” He held out his arms, sad to leave them. Before walking away he patted Rishi’s shoulder. “You are lucky man.”


	27. Chapter 27

Jaden rolled his neck and shoulders, surveying the large number of couples that would be taking the floor for the first round of Latin.

“I’d forgotten what a zoo Blackpool is,” he mumbled to Ramona.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, bending to touch her toes. “Let’s hope things go well.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine.” They were near the judges panel and he caught sight of a young woman with dark hair and a bright smile. He waved and gave her a wink.

“You know a judge? Interesting.”

“I don’t really, she’s just been around for a few years. I swear she pads my scores depending on how tight my pants are.” He kept a grin on his face. “She’s a doll though, her name is Tabby.”

Ramona snorted, shaking her head, and continued stretching. Ramona’s fiery red dress, as most Latin costumes, left little to the imagination. The skirt was made entirely of tassels that swayed with the slightest movement, going from a hot chili red to dark burgundy, giving an illusion that the dress was dripping molten fire. Her back was completely exposed, no netting or leotard underneath; the front of the bodice sweeping across her chest, leaving part of her midriff uncovered, and a swirl of beads in varying shades of red made it look like flames were dancing across her chest.

Jaden’s outfit was far less conspicuous – a plain red shirt that was the same shade as the base of Ramona’s dress, with only three buttons, leaving his chest bare, and black pants and shoes.

“All right, let’s do this shit.” Jaden grinned at Ramona and offered his hand. She didn’t look at him as she slipped her hand into his, instead fixing a bright smile to her face as their names and number were called.

 

***

 

“Semi-fucking-finals. How did this even happen?” Jaden blotted his face with a towel, wiping the sweat from his eyes. Under the hot lights and with all the physical exertion, he wanted nothing more than to douse himself with a bucket of ice water.

“Through hard work, you’ve done good.” Kam smiled, handing him a cup of water.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jaden knocked back the water. “It’s brutal out there, though! If Rugov cuts me off one more time, I’m going to deck him because I know that bastard is doing it purpose!”

“Don’t, Jaden.” Kam sighed. “You’ll get tossed out, besides he’ll have points taken off, stop worrying. Just take a break, rest up for the next round.”

“I’m not in good enough shape for Blackpool.” He settled back and threw an arm over his eyes. “Dolche and Velo are like fucking powerhouses, have they even broken a sweat?”

“They’re not sweating, but their flicks on the last Jive were sloppy.”

“Good, I hope their legs are burning.”

“I’m not sure if I should say this or not, but I think you and Ramona have a really good shot at placing.” Kam seemed surprised by that, and Jaden swatted him with his sweaty towel.

“Of course we do, we’re amazing.”

“Speaking of, you better go find her, they’re going to start calling numbers soon, and I need to go prep Mina and Anton.”

“She’s probably in the changing rooms.” Jaden stood slowly, letting out a deep sigh. “I think I’m too old for this shit, Kam.”

“Uh huh,” Kam grunted. He patted Jaden’s shoulder and left to find Mina and Anton. With his towel around his neck, Jaden made his way to the changing rooms in search of his partner.

He kept his eyes down as he sought out Ramona, most all of the dancers were hardly shy, but he thought it best to respect their privacy at least a little bit.

Jaden was ready to give up on finding her when he heard a familiar voice, raised in anger, and using several Spanish words he knew to be profanity. He popped his head around a corner to find Ramona squaring off against her father and Martino; she stamped her foot for good measure, calling them both idiots.

Martino looked up from Ramona, his grey eyes meeting Jaden’s and narrowing. “You are not wanted here.”

Ramona turned around, and if Jaden hadn’t known better he would’ve said she looked relieved. He stepped into the room, yanking the towel from his neck. “They’re close to calling numbers again, I came to get Ramona.”

“Just leave us, boy.” The elder De La Vega looked at him as if he were a piece of garbage on the bottom of his shoe.

“No!” Ramona hissed, whirling back on her father. “I want him here!”

“ _En español, por favour_.” Her father sighed, pinching his nose.

“No, papa! Your decisions concern him, he should know!” Ramona turned back to Jaden and he stepped a bit closer to her, concerned.

“They,” she waved a hand toward Martino and her father, “have decided my future! According to them this is to be my farewell competition!” Ramona held up her hand, pointing to the ring there. “They think I should retire from dance and play good little wife to Martino.”

Ramona slipped the ring from her finger and held up, fixing Martino with an icy glare. “Well I won’t! All I have wanted, since I could walk, was to dance. You will not take that from me,” she ground out.

“I settled for you. Do you understand that? You were not my first choice, ever. I settled because it was easy, because I thought…” Ramona took a deep breath, her eyes darting toward Jaden. “I thought I could do no better. But I will not have you running my life like I am some mindless child. I will not have you crushing my dreams and my hopes, because I have worked too hard and too long to throw them away.”

She glared down her father and Martino, full of ire. “Neither of you own me. I will not be your puppet, I will not be your wife! I will do as I choose, and I will live my life how I wish!” In a final act of defiance, she threw the ring at Martino’s face. “Now excuse me, I have a competition to try to win.”

Ramona grabbed Jaden’s hand and whirled on her heel, storming out of the room with him in tow. They made it halfway back to the main hall when Jaden’s brain finally caught up with the recent events, and he tugged Ramona to a halt.

“Are you all right?”

“I will be once we win, come on.” She yanked him a few more paces, but he was not so ready to let things go.

“No, Ramona.” He stopped again, looking around for a quieter place. He spotted an alcove leading to a janitor’s closet, and figured that was the best they could do. He pulled her toward it, putting her back against the wall, and positioned himself in front of her – blocking her from view of any passersby.

“That was a huge thing. I’m not even really sure what all happened, but it was big. So you need to let me know if you’re all right?”

She lowered her eyes. “You don’t care.”

“No,” he sighed. “I’m pretty sure we established yesterday that I care more than I should, which is why you need to tell me if you’re okay.”

Ramona leaned back against the wall, her hands clasped behind her back and looked up at him. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, glancing away from him. “I don’t know?”

He waited for her to continue, and several strained moments passed while she stared over his shoulder at the people milling around before the start of the Latin semi-finals. When he was tempted to speak again, Ramona seemed to come back to herself. Blinking rapidly she focused her gaze on him again.

“I never loved Martino, I meant what I said: I settled. As for papa?” She shrugged callously. “He never truly cared for me, I tried to earn his affection, but I went about it the wrong ways. I tried to change for him, to suit him. It was all pointless, I realize now.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“You can’t think like that, Mona. He’s your dad and you tried, he didn’t. As for Martino…” he shook his head. Overhead the announcer’s voice started calling numbers for the semi-finals dance.

Ramona pushed at Jaden’s chest until he moved back, then headed for the dance floor. Jaden stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not okay. Let’s get out of here, it’ll be all right.” He took her hand, intending to lead her to the front doors of the ballroom, but she wouldn’t budge, her hand slipping from his.

“Why do you care, Jaden?” He turned around to find Ramona dangerously close to tears.

“You know the answer to that,” he whispered.

Ramona met his gaze, steadfast and unwavering. She wetted her lips, opened her mouth to speak, but the announcer’s voice cut through:

“One-Seven-Seven.”

She shook her head, snatched up his hand, and together they made their way to the dance floor with the others; ready to dance the best rumba of their career.

And it was.

As the music started, everything seemed to fade away; the other dancers on the floor, the audience, the judges scrutinizing their every move. It was just the two of them, like those rare moments in the practice room.

Or even farther back; the quick practices before a competition, the elevator rides when he would offer to carry her bags after she dismissed the bodyguard her father had sent, or the shared meals in the back of restaurants in a foreign country where neither of them knew the language.

Every pent up feeling seemed to build until it was let loose in the dance. All the frustration, the longing, the confusion, and the attraction. She pressed against him, he ran his hand down her side, over her bare back and stomach, his free hand linking with hers to spin her out, and back in again. When the music stopped and the crowd roared to life, clapping and cheering.

The dancers on the floor all took their bows. Jaden and Ramona grinned widely as they looked to the crowd and then to the judges, they both knew they had done well. As Ramona bowed to the crowd again, she moved to fall in line behind the other dancers leaving the floor, but Jaden caught her by the wrist. She turned back to look at him, confusion written across her face.

Jaden gave her wrist a slight tug and she shuffled closer, her feet barely leaving the floor. He lifted his free hand, cupping her face, long fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck, her pulse beating under his palm.

Craning his neck, eyes locked with hers, he stopped when his lips were a hairsbreadth from hers. “The answer to your question,” he whispered against her lips, “is because I love you.” Then he closed the minuscule gap between them.

Ramona’s hands rose to cup his face, yanking his head down and deepening the kiss as she pressed herself closer to him. Jaden’s free hand circled around her thin waist, running up and down her back.

They stayed together for a long while, the kiss far from chaste, and hardly appropriate for the middle of a dance competition, but neither one cared. Though finally they were forced to break apart for air – her lips swollen, and his smeared with her red lipstick.

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering open.

Jaden traced his thumb over her lower lip, tempted to kiss her again, but a loud wolf whistle distracted him. He glanced over to see Zander cheering him along with the rest of the audience and several dancers. Jaden found Kam behind Zander, smiling in an obnoxious way like he’d planned the entire thing.

Jaden wondered if he knew this would happen?

“I think we’ve put on more of a show than intended,” he said, glancing down at Ramona.

“Oh well.” She shrugged, eyes dark.

“Come on, let’s find a quiet place to talk and wait for scores.” He stepped back enough to grab her hand, pulling her off the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's have some rumbas.
> 
> This one because red dress: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9TkotksG5s&feature=youtu.be&t=21s  
> What a group rumba looks like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZlXmY22INo


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I (not so) surprisingly know very little about European dance regulations and rules, so everything here on out is me playing fast and loose with the stuff I've researched. We'll call it creative license for the sake of drama!

“You know, I would just like to point out that I was right when I said today would be a good one.”

“Yes, I know, you’re amazing.” Kam kept his face bland, ignoring Zander for the most part as he watched the ProAm round before they started the Standard trials.

Zander got up on his tiptoes, placing his chin on Kam‘s shoulder in order to get his brother’s point of view. “Scouting talent?”

“Always.” Kam shrugged, knocking Zander away. “Some of the amateurs might want to graduate to the professional circuit, they’ll be in need of a coach then.”

As the couples finished their dance, they filed off to wait for placements. Kam caught sight of a familiar face and grinned. He pushed through the crowd of people and caught the woman’s arm.

“Still slumming it in the ProAm circuit, Hayley?”

The woman frowned at him and slapped his hand away, going to adjust her bowtie. Dressed in a respectable tuxedo, her blonde hair cropped short and slicked back, she gave the illusion of being a male dancer.

“Shut up, Kameron,” she said haughtily, her Australian accent thick. “This is not ‘slumming’, you pommy bastard. And ‘round here it’s ‘Harvey’.”

“That is an atrocious name.”

“No one asked you!”

“You know, you could be on top of the professional circuit, if only you’d stop playing teacher and danced with another pro.” He laughed, teasing her in good fun.

She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention, but it appeared everyone was too focused on themselves, and leaned in close. “Oh, but see you ruined me for partners all those years ago. Even though it was Junior trials I never got over it!” Hayley batted her eyes. “In all honesty, I like this better, I get to teach _and_ compete. Besides with ProAm I get to wear the pants!”

“Mmhmm,” Kam grunted. “Speaking of wearing the pants, where’s that lovely wife of yours?”

“Helping my partner with a torn hemline.”

“Ah, is she new or returning?”

“New-ish partner, bang up girl named Sandy. Oh! There they are!” She waved to a woman with long, dark hair in a sharp business suit, and another woman with short red-brown hair and a huge smile – her soft blue dress glittering under the ballroom lights, sequins running up and down the arms and across the bodice.

“Hello, Kameron.” The dark haired woman greeted him.

“Hey ya, Malena.” He bent and hugged her. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! I heard you have three couples in the competition this weekend? And I saw that Jaden's doing well?” She snickered.

“Yeah, ‘bout time, right?”

“I should say so!” She grinned at him then shook her head. “Oh! Where are my manners, Sandy this our old friend Kameron Ryan. Kam, this is Sandy.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Kam said.

“You too.” She smiled happily, shaking his hand.

“Have you been trying to woo Hayley to the pros again, Kam?” Malena turned to Sandy. “He tries this every time, deep down I think he wishes he could dance with her again.”

“Pfftt and give up my pretty partner? You’re bonkers, mate!” Hayley threw an arm around Sandy’s shoulders, squeezing.

“Oh, well, I’m hoping to convince her not to take a student after me.” Sandy grinned.

“We’ll see!” Hayley returned the grin. “End up going pro all the way and drag the WDSF into the twenty-first century kicking and screaming!”

“Oh! They’re already calling the Pros for the first round!” Malena pointed to the floor. “Kam you better go.”

“Great, let’s see how badly Anton is going to screw up,” he muttered to himself.

“You’re coaching Anton? As in Cromwell?” Hayley blinked at Kam then started laughing, so much so she lowered her head onto Sandy’s shoulder for support. “Oh god, that’s rich.”

“Shut up, it’s actually better than you might think.”

“This I have to see for myself!” Hayley grabbed Malena and Sandy’s hands, pulling them toward the edge of the floor with Kam in tow. They found Zander where Kam had left him, now joined by Adelaide, Edmond, and Sylvia.

“This is the first group of dancers for qualifiers, then group two will dance. After that they call numbers for who moves onto semi-finals.” Zander was explaining to the girls. “Dmitri and Maggie are in group two.”

Zander paused when Kam returned with the others. He made a face and pointed at Hayley. “Eww, it’s you.”

“You love me, you little bugger!” She stepped around Kam to plant a big, wet smacking kiss on Zander’s cheek. “How’re the nappies? Finally potty trained yet?”

Zander deliberately wiped his face, giving her a mocking glare.

“Kids, please,” Malena cut in. “They’re calling names.”

Everyone quieted down as dancers starting taking the floor, their names and numbers getting called out by the announcer. In the middle of the group were Anton and Mina, striking in their dance costumes.

As couples kept arriving on the floor there was a sudden stirring among them, like cattle in a pen. One dancer fled the floor, hand covering their mouth, and then another and another. A few were not lucky enough to make it off the floor before losing the contents of their stomach.

“What the hell is happening?” Kam breathed.

“Everyone is getting sick?” Edmond stared in shock.

“Someone go find Maggie and Dmitri, make sure they’re okay. Something is very wrong here!” Kam looked out over the dance floor, nearly every couple running to the bathrooms or looking extremely green. He finally found Mina among the chaos, looking on in abject horror, and then to Anton who seemed only mildly perturbed.

What the hell was going on?

 

***

 

Two weeks after Blackpool, Kam sat in his office staring at his desk, oddly reminiscent of a day nearly four months before when it had been piled high with bills, and the future had seemed bleak.

The future was just as bleak as before however, he was not staring at bills. In his hand was a letter from the World DanceSport Federation. The claims had been set and sorted, and the outcome exactly what he had expected.

While he could take a little solace in the fact things were not as bad as they could’ve been, everything still stung.

He let out a heavy sigh, setting down the paper and rubbing his eyes. There were arrangements to be made, things to be signed and filed, but he had no motivation to do anything besides sit in his office, and stare at the walls.

Unforunately he was interrupted from his plans when the door to his office banged open and Mina came storming in, hair flying and eyes flashing. She stopped in front of his desk and glared down at him, arms crossed.

“Jaden just called me with the news,” she said in an accusing tone.

“Would you have preferred I called?”

“I would prefer if you would kindly explain to me what the hell it is you think you’re doing?” She slammed her hands down on his desk. “You are being a fucking idiot, Kam!”

He sighed again, wearily. “Someone has to take the blame,” he said slowly, having said those words a hundred times in the past fourteen days.

“Then why not the person responsible!? You and I both know Anton spiked all the drinks and food. You and I both know he is solely responsible for all those dancers getting sick. You and I both–”

“You and I both know it would’ve ended up being his word against mine, and considering how many powerful people he knows, things would have been ugly. This way everything is settled quietly and–”

“And you’ll never be able to coach again! You’re blacklisted and a laughingstock!”

“It’s better this way.”

“Why not pin it on me? Like Anton intended? I’m the wild child from America with no care for the rules!” Mina waved her hands. “I have a history, it’s been established. Why not just let me take the fall? I could go back to the states and teach in a studio, I still could’ve built something… isn’t that better? Better than you losing _everything_ you’ve worked for?”

Kam shook his head, eyes drifting toward the windows that overlooked the Elysian. “That’s not better. That’s you losing your dream, I couldn’t let that happen. You’re young, you’re just starting out, I’ve had my time. I’ll still have this place, just not in name; Jaden and Zander are buying me out, so it’s not completely lost.” Assuming they could keep it afloat, but that was something he’d been worrying over for so long it hardly seemed worth mentioning.

“So instead you’re just going to martyr yourself!?” Mina exploded. She stepped around the edge of his desk and positioned herself in front of him, forcing him to look at her. “You’re a moron! You should fight! You can’t just roll over and play dead, letting Anton have his way!”

“I’m not doing that!” Kam had finally lost his patience. He’d been arguing with his brothers and Neven and Dmitri and Edmond, and fighting with the WDSF for weeks, the last thing he needed at that moment was Mina telling him where he had gone wrong.

He surged to his feet, his chair rolling away with the motion and crashing against the wall. “There is no doubt in my mind if I didn’t go the easy way it would get ugly! The Studio’s name would be tarnished, Anton would take down Jaden and Zander, probably Edmond, Dmitri, and Neven too. Not to mention what he would do to you!”

Kam met Mina’s gaze, eyes hard and mouth set. “I’m not martyring myself, I’m not ‘playing dead’, I’m protecting you!”

“Well, I don’t want you protecting me at the cost of your damned career! I’ll tell them I did it, like I should’ve done before! I’ll tell them you were only covering for me!” She whirled around, intending to march out just as she had came in, but Kam grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at him.

“You will do no such thing! It’s over and done, you’re being childish if you think that would do any good now.”

“That’s all it is, isn’t it? You see me as some little girl who can’t make decisions for herself. Well I’m not, Kam, and you have absolutely no right putting your neck on the chopping block on my behalf, not without even consulting me! I am a grown woman and I will decide what’s best for myself!” she yelled.

“It’s not because I think you’re a child, Mina, it’s because I CARE ABOUT YOU!” Kam roared back.

“You do?” Mina blinked at him, all her ire whooshing out with a single breath. However, Kam was still too worked up to take notice.

“Yes, I do! Rather a lot!” he continued ranting. “Against the part of me that says I’m too old for you, the part that says I’m your coach, against the part that says we’re completely wrong for each other.“ Kam stopped and ran a hand through his hair, his other fisted on his hip. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? We’re not really, we work together, we fit in a strange way.”

“Not so strange.” Mina shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I know it was stupid, what I did, and I know it seems like I’ve lost my mind… maybe I have?” He shrugged, eyes focused on a point above her head. “But I wasn’t about to let you lose everything when I could stop it.”

He finally looked down, meeting her eyes, shoulders sagging. “You’re beautiful, Mina, and when you dance you can see how much you love it, how much it means to you. How could I let them take that from you? Or from anyone else?”

“You’re still an idiot.” She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It can’t be undone now,” he muttered.

They stood in silence until Mina let out a frustrated sigh, tossing her hands up. “Now you’re an even bigger idiot.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Exactly!” she huffed. “After all that, the reasoning, the confession, everything! That was the perfect opportunity to kiss me but you were too damned stupid to get on the boat!” Mina shook her head at him in a pitying sort of way, stepped a bit closer, and snaked her arms around his neck, yanking his face down to hers.


	29. Chapter 29

His palms were sweating profusely and he found it difficult to catch his breath. Edmond knew the butler was casting him dubious looks over his shoulder, and that made him even more uncomfortable.

The walk to Lord Teasdale’s office was the longest of his life, and he hadn’t even been able to see Sylvia beforehand. The butler knocked on the door, a muffled ‘enter’ sounded on the other side, and he was all but shoved inside.

“Edmond, sit.” He did as he was told, all the more nervous for how calm the older man seemed. “I’ve asked you here for two reasons.”

“Yes, _monsieur_.”

“First is business.” Lord Teasdale shuffled some papers on his desk. “Sylvia has decided that she would use some of her trust fund for a business transaction, an investment. Do you know about this?”

“I do not, _monsieur_.” Edmond furrowed his brows, unconsciously leaning forward in his chair to figure out what it could be.

“She has heard that Mr. Ryan may be offering up his share of the Elysian. Is that correct?”

“Yes, _monsieur_. Kam--”

“I don’t need details, just that is enough.” He plunked off his glasses and looked at Edmond. “Sylvia has gotten it into her mind that she will buy him out.”

“She what?” Edmond blinked several times in shock.

“You really didn’t know, good that makes this all the better.” Lord Teasdale replaced his glasses, smiling softly. “I, of course, can’t stop Sylvia from investing her trust fund if she chooses, but there was another part of the deal that would involve me.”

“I’m sorry, _monsieur_. I am very lost right now.”

“Sylvia is asking me to loan her a good deal of money, I believe she wishes to ensure her investment will do well? It seems she’s concerned about how much debt the studio is in. The reason why I asked you here to discuss this is because I’m curious if you think that Mr. Ryan would agree to all of this?”

“Honestly? I don’t think Kam will like it, he is a proud man, but he has little choice. And it’s rather a good plan,” he said, still stunned.

“Good, that settles that then.” Lord Teasdale sighed a few pieces of paper then gathered them up, putting them in a folder. “We’ll see everything gets carried out quickly.”

“Now,” he focused on Edmond again. “The second reason I called you here is a bit more personal.”

Edmond steeled himself, ready for the anger or threats or any number of things Lord Teasdale might say or do regarding his relationship with Sylvia.

“There’s been a fair bit of drama, and I don’t know if it’s miscommunications or misunderstandings, but it appears to be all sorted out now.” Teasdale shook his head, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled. “So I will cut to the chase my boy: what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”

Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Edmond met Lord Teasdale’s gaze across the desk. “I realize now what you must think, how it must seem. I do not know if I can do anything to truly disperse the worries I’m sure you have. All I can say is that over these last few months I’ve spent with Sylvia, I have grown to care for her a very great deal, and that caring has blossomed into love. I’m sure you think we’re young and impetuous, and heaven knows what you think of me. But sir, I will swear to you now, that for as long as she will have me, I will treat your daughter the greatest care and respect. She is a very special person, not just to me, but to everyone who knows her, and I never wish to hurt her.”

“Good answer,” Lord Teasdale managed before his office door burst open and Sylvia rushed inside. She grinned widely as she threw her arms around Edmond’s neck, but he could only sit in shock as her cheek pressed against his.

Lord Teasdale smiled at them and rose from his chair. As he passed them he gave Edmond’s shoulder a little squeeze. “I’ll give you a moment alone.”

“What do you think of my plan?” Sylvia asked when her father had left.

“It’s wonderful, I don’t even know how to say…?”

“I just want everyone to be happy. I think this works.”

“I think so, too.” He looked up at her, reaching out to caress her cheek. “ _Je t'aime_ ,” he murmured.

Sylvia grinned at him widely, her face glowing and her eyes dancing. “I love you, too,” she whispered before he slipped his hand to the back of her neck and tugged her down for a kiss.

 

***

 

Jaden wasn’t sure if calling to tell Mina about the WDSF’s ruling would do any good, but he was sure it wouldn’t hurt. Life was too short for Kam to continue being an idiot, and he should know, he’d spent the good part of two years being one.

As he sat in his living room, exhaustion seemed to descend upon him, settling on his shoulders like a cloak. The last two weeks he, like his brothers, had been in a constant state of worry, panic, and stress. The future of the studio was still uncertain, but they would do what they could. Just continue working and hope for the best, he told himself.

But the worst of all was that he had barely seen Ramona since the dust had settled at Blackpool. Between dealing with the judges and the WDSF they hadn’t had much time together, then she had left for Spain to settle her affairs, and straighten out certain details with her father.

They’d spoken on the phone, but only about business, nothing to do with what was going on between them. They’d shared a few words at Blackpool before all hell had broken loose, and there were certain known facts, an understanding, but no real discussion. They were saving that until they were both in the same room again.

Jaden figured he should call her now, tell her the news and see when she might be returning, but he was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his door. Heaving himself up from his sofa, he meandered to the door, feet heavy.

He was surprised, but pleased, to find Ramona on the other side, dressed in a black trench coat with oversized sunglasses and her hair down. She stood with one leg crossed over the other, a large black tote in hand.

“You’re back?”

She laughed softly and took off her sunglasses, shaking her hair back from her face as she settled them on top of her head. “I am.”

“For good?”

“For good.” She nodded and reached up to brush back his hair from his face, letting her fingers trail down his cheek. “How are things here? You look tired.”

“The verdict is in.”

“And?” she prompted.

“Kam is officially done. His instructors license is revoked, and he is blacklisted from ever competing again.”

“What about the studio?”

“Zander and I are going to buy out his share, get his name off the paperwork.” Jaden sagged a bit. “It’s just so wrong, Mona, that was always his thing... his baby. Zander and I just went along for the ride.”

“You’re doing what needs to be done, he’s losing it in name, not in spirit.”

Jaden sighed and nodded slowly. “What about you? Things work out okay with your dad?”

“Well enough.” She let out a breath, bobbing her head. “Everything is packed and gone from the house in Zaragoza, the crates will be arriving in London within the week. My father didn’t even put up a fight, he even handed me a check for the money he’d set aside from competitions. So as of right now, I am a moderately wealthy woman.”

“Oh, does that mean I get to be a kept man? I could get on board for that.”

“First you have to let me inside.” She jerked her chin at the door.

“Oh, right.” Jaden rubbed the back of his neck and stepped aside, letting her enter the flat. Shutting the door he watched as she sat down her bag by the entry, and shrugged out of her coat, tossing it over the back of his sofa with her sunglasses.

She turned toward him, eyebrows lowered and a pout on her lips. “I’m hungry, I don’t like plane food.”

“You want me to cook for you?” She nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.

“But you do realize without your father’s money you’re going to have to learn to do these things for yourself, not always rely on some hired hand to do it for you.”

“You bastard, I know how to cook!” She shoved his shoulder. “I only happen to remember that you actually enjoy it.”

“Okay, fine.“ He sighed dramatically, spreading his hands. “I’ll cook for you, stop begging.” As he headed to the kitchen Ramona slapped his ass, and he turned back with wide eyes. “You can’t sexually harass the help, there are _laws_ ,” he stressed.

Ramona rolled her eyes and slipped her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He rested his chin on top of her head, drawing her close. He was tempted to kiss her, but instead pulled back and led her into the kitchen. She sat down on a stool at the small island in the center of the room, watching him as he gathered ingredients.

“Nothing fancy today, I need to go to the market… but how ‘bout pasta Carbonara?”

“Fine.” She leaned her elbows on the counter, cupping her cheeks in her hands. Jaden picked out the supplies, throwing them onto the counter by the refrigerator. “I guess I have to bring it up then?” she said have a moment.

He looked at her over his shoulder, “I was gonna let you eat first.”

“Well, we are going to try this, aren’t we? Being a couple?”

“I was hoping….” Jaden lifted his shoulder, giving her a teasing smirk.

“ _Estúpido_ ,“ she said laughingly, picking up a grape from the fruit bowl on the island and chucking it at his head.

“Abusing the help now? I should file a report.”

They fell into silence as Jaden prepared the meal with Ramona watching intently. The room soon filled with the scent of cooking bacon and sizzling onions. He whipped together a decadent cream sauce, adding it to the pasta and meat and onions, along with fresh zucchini.

He plated it up, tossed the pans in the sink, and sat the concoction before Ramona. She leaned over it taking a deep breath, eyes closed. Jaden grinned at her, meaning to finish cleaning up, but she grabbed his wrist.

“Sit with me,” she asked, batting her eyes.

Jaden nodded and sat down on the stool next to her, watching as she took a bite of the pasta, relishing it.

“Good then?” She licked her lips slowly and nodded. Twisting her fork in the pasta she held up a bite for him. Jaden leaned in to take the bite, but she pulled it back slowly, making him lean forward more.

“Tease.” Ramona laughed, deep and throaty, and let him have the bite. “Not bad,” he shrugged.

They didn’t speak for a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was Ramona making throaty noises as she ate. Jaden shifted rather uncomfortably in his seat and fixed Ramona with a shrewd gaze.

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“What?” She fringed shock. “I’m just enjoying my meal.”

“Mhm,” he grunted, trying to keep his mind clear of certain thoughts. As she finished the pasta she got up to deposit the plate in the sink and returned to Jaden’s side. Instead of sitting on the stool again she slipped up onto the countertop, nearly right in front of him, legs crossed and causing her skirt to ride up slightly.

“I’ve been in contact with a lovely woman who is willing to rent out her Brownstone to me, unfortunately things won’t be ready for a few days,” Ramona said lightly. “And it seems in all my haste to leave Spain I forgot to book myself a hotel room.”

“Is that so?” Jaden wetted his lips and looked up at Ramona’s face. “Bit of a problem, that.”

“If only I knew some kind soul who might take pity on me? Perhaps let me stay with him until things are finalized with the rental.”

Jaden rose slowly from his seat as Ramona shifted, uncrossing her legs, the skirt riding up a bit higher, exposing long, tanned legs.

“Well,” Jaden said slowly, inching closer to her, his fingers raking up her calves. “Kam has plenty of room at his place, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to put you up.”

“I did always like Kam.” Ramona’s hands trailed over his arms and shoulders, going to lace behind his neck, pulling him closer.

“Or,” he drawled, fingers brushing her thighs. “You could stay with me?”

Ramona giggled, hooked one leg around his hip and tugged him down for a kiss. It was deep and heated, her fingers digging into his hair as he ran his hands over her thighs and hips. Tiling her head, Ramona slowly leaned back, pulling Jaden with her. Hands braced on the countertop he leaned over her, as both her legs wrapped around his waist.

There was a frantic moment as they fought against buttons and zippers, the fruit bowl on the island clattering to the floor in the process, but neither of them sparing it a single thought. All that matter in that moment was the feel of skin on skin, searing kisses, and the beat of their hearts.

 

***

 

There had never been a single meeting in the history of the Elysian Dance Studio that Kam hadn’t called himself, so as he sat in the main room, he couldn’t help but have a tingling sense of worry creep up his spine.

Once everyone was gathered he turned on Edmond and arched an eyebrow. “What’s all this then?”

“Sylvia as a proposition.” Edmond grinned at the petite blonde, and she carefully moved to the middle of the room.

“Kameron, I’m not sure what all you’ll think, but I want to buy out your share of the studio instead of Jaden and Zander.”

“I’m sorry?” Kam glanced toward Edmond, who only nodded encouragingly. Everyone else seemed just as lost as he was.

“I’ll buy your share of the studio, but considering I know next to nothing about dance or running a business, I was thinking I would be a silent partner… perhaps have someone to help run things in my stead. Someone who knows the ins and outs of Elysian – someone like you.” She gestured toward Kam.

“You’re mad.”

“No, I’m serious!” Sylvia nodded. “And I know there are other troubles, I can’t have my new company failing, so my father is willing to offer me a loan in order to pay off the debts and make renovations.”

Kam gawked at Sylvia for a moment, then glanced toward Mina at his side, who seemed utterly pleased with this turn of events, then toward Edmond.

“Did you have anything to do with this?”

Edmond held up his hands. “It is all on her.”

He turned back toward Sylvia. “But how can we pay back this loan? I can’t let you sink because you’re trying to be kind.”

“I’m not trying to be kind, I want to do this. As for the loan... well, I was able to get a bit of information from Edmond and Jaden and Zander, and I think if the studio can pay off its debt and get the fixes it needs, it would do wonders. You could make the studio exactly what you’ve always wanted, expand it. After all that’s settled, daddy and I plan on recommending the Elysian to society people. Think of all the private lessons, all the debutantes. It will be perfect!”

Kam ran a finger down the bridge of his nose, thinking things over. Without looking up, he lifted his free hand. “What does everyone think of this?”

“It sounds kinda great,” Zander said.

“I agree.” Jaden shrugged. “Good on ya, Sylvia.”

“Kam don’t be stubborn… or stupid.” Mina leaned in close to his side and took his hand in both of hers. “It’s a perfect solution and you know it.”

“That’s the thing, it’s a little too perfect.”

“Someone out there loves you, Kam!” Zander teased.

“It’s like someone is writing my life and they decided to be nice about everything.”

“Or maybe they just realized you’ve been through enough shit and thought it was time to fix things.” Zander shrugged, spreading his hands.

“All right.” Kam looked up at Sylvia and extended his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

She giggled, clapping happily as she bounced in place. Instead of shaking his hand she bent down and gave him a bear hug.


	30. Epilogue

Grabbing the studio mail from the box on the front of the building, Zander started carefully walking back inside, shuffling through the letters. The Elysian Dance Studio had been completely renovated, the main room now had an actual reception area and waiting room.

The far wall had been knocked out to allow for more practice rooms and proper storage. There were now up to date changing rooms and a proper daycare. The entire place gleamed with new lights, refurbished floorboards, and a fresh coat of paint covered the walls.

Today, October 31st, a mere five months after Sylvia’s plan had been kicked into action, was the ‘grand re-opening’, consisting of a costume party for all the kids.

“Zander have you seen your damned brother?” He glanced up from a particularly interesting piece of mail, eyebrow arched.

“Yeah, I’m looking at him,” he said with the utmost seriousness.

“Not me, you blasted idiot. Jaden.” Kam sighed at him.

“Well, you should’ve specified then, I do have two. ‘Hey Zander have you seen Jaden?’” he mocked in a lower voice. “ ‘Why no, Kam, I haven’t, and it doesn’t look like I will any time soon.’ “

“What are you talking about?” Kam walked up to Zander, angling his neck to see what he was holding.

“It appears he and Ramona have eloped.” Zander held out a postcard to Kam, on the front was a small whitewashed cottage with a dark thatched roof and a sign that read ‘Old Blacksmith Shop’ in large letters.

“They went to Gretna Green?”

“Yup, he said they’re honeymooning in New Abbey until next week.”

“A wedding and we’re not even invited? Bastard.” Kam smiled, belying his words.

“You’ll be invited to mine.” Zander grinned.

“I hope this grievous error on Jaden’s part will prove that I should be best man.” Zander rolled his eyes, Kam and Jaden had been arguing – good-naturedly – over who would be his best man since almost the second he had proposed to Adelaide last month.

“I guess so. Make sure your schedule is clear in April.”

“It already was.” His brother laughed.

There was a commotion in the waiting room and Mina’s voice could be heard. “Babe!” she called, but Kam was busy reading Jaden’s postcard, not really paying attention.

“Babe!” she called again to no avail. “Kam!” she tried and this time he looked up, Zander laughing. “KAMERON!” she finally bellowed and the pair of them rushed into the room, knowing full well something big happening if she had used his full name.

“Is something wrong?” Kam asked, eyes wide in concern.

“LOOK!” She fiddled with the remote control for a moment, trying to get the DVR to rewind to the part she wanted. A news story flashed up and a hush fell across them as Anton’s picture came on the screen.

“In other news today, things have not be so rosy for former Intentional Ballroom Champion Anton Cromwell, the son of the late Phillip Cromwell, former member of the House of Commons.” The footage cut from the news anchor to what looked like leaked camera phone footage of Anton in a studio with a new partner and coach.

It was difficult to see his partner, cast in shadows, but his coach was clearly visible as she spoke with him, tall with an olive complexion and long dark hair held back in a high ponytail.

“While training with his new coach, Suzanna Madani, and partner, Estelle Abbate, Anton suffered a debilitating leg fracture as this footage shows.” As the anchor spoke they could see Anton obviously having a row with his coach, yelling and throwing his arms up. He stormed away from her, but somehow managed to slip on the smooth dance floor, crashing to the ground. The footage didn’t show the extent of exactly what had happened to his leg, but pain clearly flashed across his face as he reached for his shin.

Then the camera cut to his coach – up close she was a beautiful woman with the smooth skin and enchanting eyes that seemed so much older than her years. “It’s a shame,” she said, her accent difficult to place. “All dancers will suffer some form injury at one point or another. I suppose it was only a matter of time for Anton.” She shrugged carelessly. “However, it is a pity that this was such a freak accident, I don’t know if he’ll ever able to recover.”

There was more to story but Mina muted it and turned to Kam and Zander. “Well?” she prompted.

“I can’t believe it,” Kam mumbled, still staring at the screen.

“Karma's a bitch.” Zander flipped off the screen for good measure. “Serves ya right, Anton!”

“Hello!?” A voice called from outside the room a moment before Edmond appeared, already dressed in costume – black pants and a white military style coat, gold tassels on the shoulders and a sash across the chest. “We’re here to help with the decorations,” he informed them, holding up a box. Sylvia popped up at his side dressed in a blue ball gown, her hair up in a French twist with a small tiara glittering on top.

“Yes!” Mina cheered. “If you’ll follow me, your highness.” She bowed before leading them out of the room. The next few hours were spent decorating and making sure everything was ready for the party – also sharing the news over Jaden and Ramona.

“Oh, it’s so romantic!” Sylvia cried, starry eyed.

“Says the girl dressed as Cinderella.” Mina giggled, bumping her shoulder with Sylvia’s. Over the last few months all the girls had become quite good friends, despite their differences.

As time passed everyone got themselves ready for the party, and eventually Adelaide and Neven showed – her dressed as a blue fairy while Neven only wore black pants and a dress shirt. Zander greeted Adelaide with a big hug and kiss, and Neven with a muttered ‘hey.’

“I have favour to ask.” Neven sat down his black duffle bag and clasped his hands together. “When Maggie and Dmitri show will you tell Maggie to meet me in the old practice room?”

“You’re not picking them up from the airport?” Sylvia cut in. “Don’t you want to see Maggie as soon as possible? They’ve been touring the circuit for months!”

“I do, but I have plan. Just please tell her that?” Neven looked at them all imploringly.

“Will do!” Zander saluted.

“Thank you, friend.” Neven patted his back, picked up the bag, and headed down the hall.

As the time of the party came near, people started to arrive, the children excited to return to the studio after it had been closed for a few months. There were old students and newer, friends from competitions and the circuit.

After the party was already underway, a glowing Dmitri showed up with a harassed looking Maggie. He wore a pinstripe suit, a fedora on his head and a plastic Tommy gun in his hand. Maggie was dressed in a pink Genie outfit, the sheer material showing off her long legs, and the cutoff top baring her midriff.

“What are you grinning about?” Zander asked Dmitri, adjusting his matador costume.

“He met a girl.” Maggie barked out a laugh. “A journalist, she was covering the circuit. Her name is Courtney and I think he luuuuuuves her,” she sing-songed. Completely uncharacteristic of the normally brazen flirt, Dmitri blushed bright red and excused himself, muttering under his breath about having no such feelings.

Dmitri moved toward a group of women he knew from the circuit, all looking beautiful in their costumes – the most adorable Rainbow Brite that Zander had ever seen, a lovely gypsy with a stack of gold bangles on each arm, another girl whose face he couldn’t make out, but he had to admit she had a rather hypnotic backside in her pirate costume, and a fourth girl that Dmitri greeted as ‘Lysse’ while hugging her around the shoulders. The group was joined by a bespeckled Snow White who looked even bustier than Maggie.

All in all it looked like Dmitri was in Seventh Heaven. Zander turned his attention back to Maggie. “You look nice,” he said conversationally.

“Where is he? He wouldn’t even meet me at the airport and he knows how I feel about flying!” Maggie crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

“He’s in your old practice room.”

“He’s getting an ear full!” she breathed, turning on her heel and marching down the hall. Zander only grinned at her retreating figure and went to find Adelaide.

 

***

“Neven Veremchuk.” Maggie’s angry voice sounded in the hall. “Who do ya think ya are? Not even coming to get your girlfriend and brother from the airpo–” She stopped short as soon as she opened the door.

Neven remained standing in the middle of the room, watching as her eyes grew wide as saucers while she looked around. He had strung up lights around the entire room, illuminating it with a soft glow. There were flower petals strewn across the floor, and gentle music played in the background.

“I was busy, I am sorry,” he said, lips twitching.

“Wot is this?” Maggie shut the door and shuffled into the room.

“An apology.”

Her eyes snapped to his, brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I lie to you.”

“I don’t understand?” She started walking toward him, but he held up a hand.

“Stay there, please.” Maggie gave him a dubious look, but remained where she was.

“I lie about why I don’t go on circuit with you and Dmitri.”

She screwed up her face in confusion. “You weren’t helping with all the studio changes?”

“I did a bit, but mostly I was recovering.”

“Wot?” She looked him over, trying to assess his health. He only smiled at her softly, and tossed away his cane.

“Neven?”

“I went to see doctor, like you want, a specialist.” He took a step toward her, while he still had a slight limp, his gait just a bit uneven, he could now make the journey to her side without the use of his cane. Maggie watched his legs as he moved toward her, and when he stopped in front her she looked up at him with teary eyes.

“It hurt a bit when I move certain way, but not like before. Is all plastic now.” He shifted his weight to his left foot, bending is right knee a couple of times. “With physical therapy he think I will walk like normal again.”

“Neven,” she croaked, a grin spreading across her face.

He held out his hand, bowing to her slightly. “May I have this dance?”

She gave a watery laugh and nodded happily. Neven drew her close. “I love you, Maggie,” he said, laying a kiss against her temple.

“And I fookin’ luv ya, even if ya are a liar.” She swatted his shoulder and buried her face in his neck. “I didn’t think we’d ever get to dance together,” she said, voice muffled by his shirt. They spent the rest of the evening together, gently swaying to the music.

That night, for the first time in a long time, the group of friends – no matter where they were – all felt happy. Their future's looking brighter than ever before as they held the person they loved most, dancing to the rhythm of life.

 

~FIN~


End file.
